


everything changes

by LordAxxington



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Childbirth, Closeted Character, Denial, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Found Family, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Magical Pregnancy, Masturbation, Pining, Polymorph Spell, Pregnancy, Team as Family, Unplanned Pregnancy, i don't know jack shit abt pregnancy so take it all with a grain of salt, kissing practise trope except it's sex this time, literal magic dick, oh my god they were roommates, spoilers up to e77
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2020-10-26 07:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 76,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20738462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordAxxington/pseuds/LordAxxington
Summary: From a tumblr prompt by luckyjak:"Polymorph is a 4th level transmutation spell. It’s not like disguise self; it’s not an illusion. The body physically transforms. Beau and Jester decide to fool around while Beau is in her male tiefling form, and there are consequences. aka the Beau-knocks-Jester-up fic literally nobody asked for."After an awkward encounter in their Xhorhaus bedroom, Jester admits she's frustrated by her sexual inexperience. Beau knows how to treat a lady - what's a little Polymorph between friends?What they don't expect, as the Mighty Nein hunt down the next beacon and begin their infiltration of the Empire, is a bump in the road. Beau doesn't do feelings, and she definitely doesn't do falling for straight girls, but there's something growing between them that's getting harder and harder to ignore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this post by luckyjak, with a few changes: https://luckyjak.tumblr.com/post/183179699565/the-beaujester-fic-i-aint-got-time-for
> 
> Oh Hey it's been four years since I posted fanfic but here we are again, because this ship ticks every one of my favourite tropes. Thank you luckyjak for the original idea, which I've made some changes to as I wrote. Title from the Waitress song which makes me cry even though I don't actually like babies.
> 
> SPOILERS - this fic is canon-compliant up until ep69, then it diverges because we love Yasha and I wanted the whole team together - assume she didn't get turned and was able to flee with the group. Starts during ep77 (just after Reani and the white dragon).
> 
> General content warnings aside from the obvious and the canon-typical: vomiting, extended discussion of abortion, somewhat cissexist language/assumptions - since the premise of the fic hinges on Beau gaining a magical penis, that could be uncomfortable for some readers. This chapter is NSFW from the start!
> 
> Thank you v much to my friends for proofreading/generally enabling this instead of coursework.

The thing was, rooming with Jester just felt natural at this point. All those nights in variously grotty inns, when they’d been short of coin. Nott and Caleb had still been joined at the hip, Yasha drifted in and out, the boys rearranged themselves in their awkward boyish way. But apart from that short and painful period when the Iron Shepherds had split them, it was always Beau and Jester together. Even when the party had roughed it - the ache in her neck those long cold hours taking starlit watches atop their cart, or warm limbs all tangled together in the bubble of Caleb’s protective dome - the two of them tended to find each other, Beau’s head on Jester’s lap, hands squeezing briefly in the darkness.

Beau had felt a rush of relief when Jester chirpily agreed they’d share a room. The Xhorhaus had enough space for everyone to have privacy, but Beau had grown up with too much of that - the privacy of her father’s house, the privacy of her cell in the Cobalt Reserve. Both prisons in their own ways. If the Xhorhaus was to be home it would take Beau a while to feel it, but Jester helped. Beau wouldn’t be able to truly relax until the war was over, until she didn’t feel watched, but the sound of Jester’s breathing made it just that much easier to get to sleep. To feel safe.

There was just one thing she kind of fucking wished she’d thought about first.

_ Her fingers tighten in Tori’s curly hair as she gasps and arches against her, that wicked tongue just fucking right, god she knows how to treat her so good - ‘good girl’, she knows Tori fucking loves hearing it - then thinks of that sneered ‘little girl’, the white-hot curl of shame and arousal it stoked, letting herself imagine the point of Avantika’s boot pressing down on her- _

“Beeeaaauuu! Do you want a donut? They finally have a new flavour and it’s pretty good! I bet it’s because I kept asking. Kinda lemony!”

The bedroom door swung open and Beau swore under her breath, going perfectly rigid, thanking the Knowing Mistress or who-fucking-ever that she’d had the presence of mind to hide herself completely under the covers, two wet fingers frozen still on her clit. Fucking great. She’d been _ this _ close.

There was a too-long silence and she knew she was caught, far too unnaturally stiff to be convincingly asleep.

“Beau,” came Jester’s coy voice from much closer. “I know you’re awake.”

“Yep.” She mumbled.

“Wait, are you okay?” There was the _ flump _of Jester jumping onto her bed. It just got better and better. “Are you feeling sick?”

“I’m fine.” She sighed, rolled over and stuck her head out of the duvet, knowing her face would be flushed and sweaty, hoping Jester was naive enough to not put two and two together. “Uh, just, yknow, snoozing. Lazy morning.”

No such luck. The blue freckled face was inches from hers, inquisitive, “Wait, are you _ naked_?” Jester’s voice rose to a squeak, making Beau wince, then she dropped to an exaggerated hush, eyes wide. “Oh my gosh, Beau, were you, like, _ masturbating_? You should have just said so! I can leave!”

Beau let her head bash the pillow. “Gods. Don’t, it’s fine. Trust me, my fuckin’ boner’s dead now anyway.” She raised herself up again hastily. “Uhhh. Not like, because of you, not like you’re a boner-killer, obviously - but then - oh, fuck, not that I mean that I would, or that I do - shit...”

“Beau!” Jester laughed, still sitting on her bed. “Oh my gosh. It’s fine! It’s a totally natural part of life, you don’t have to be embarrassed! Really.” It was easy to forget sometimes Jester’s strange upbringing around sex until moments like this, the earnestness in her face as she looked Beau directly in the eyes. “Don’t worry, I know I’m hot.”

It was hard to tell, with her playful tone, whether she really meant it. _ Did _Jester know how pretty she was? Beau’s face was burning. “Nah, it’s uh. My bad, Jes. Thought you’d be out for longer. I’ll just... get dressed. I haven’t done my morning workout yet, so...” she cleared her throat. Jester blinked at her expectantly. “So if you could... turn around for a second?”

“Oh! Well, sure. But it’s nothing I haven’t seen before! Remember, with the hot springs?” Jester began reciting loudly as she stood up and exaggeratedly turned the other way. “We were all suuuper naked then. And then that inn where the bathroom was really gross and so we just got changed and washed in front of each other? And like, anyway, remember, I did a lot of spying growing up! I’ve seen tons of vaginas, Beau, like I could not even tell you! I’ve seen soooooo many different types, that when you see drawings in porn books and they all just look all little and hairless and neat? That’s so stupid because they can look _ so _ crazy. Well, not as crazy as dicks.”

Beau pulled her shirt over her head.

“And some people have stuff that’s actually in between - oh, man, that reminds me, in Assarius, when you were a super hot red tiefling guy and me and Caleb were like, cool goth twins? Remember when I watched your dick turn back? That was so crazy, and funny, and I got a really good look then too. So basically what I’m saying is don’t sweat it because I wouldn’t even blink at this point! Hey, are you done yet?” She ended on a singsong note, turning around without confirmation to see Beau wrapping her final arm bandages on, pointedly not meeting Jester’s eyes and striding to the door.

Jester stuck out the box of donuts still tucked under one arm. “Don’t forget breakfast! It’s the most important meal of the day…”

*

Since returning from Uthodurn with Fjord’s new weapon, their warlock no longer powerless, it was good to finally have some downtime in the city they’d supposedly adopted as their home.

They’d already agreed that their next destination was back to the Empire in search of the second stolen beacon, but Essek had apparently persuaded the Bright Queen to give him a few weeks to get Caleb comfortable with his new dunamancy spells - an announcement met with many a raised eyebrow, mostly from Jester. For Beau’s part, knowing how messed up Caleb’s self-image was, she couldn’t see him loosening up enough to actually get involved with Essek, even if he did pick up the signals the Shadowhand was dropping. Well, whatever weird dance they were doing, she really didn’t wanna know.

Still, with Yasha shaken from her encounter with her past in the King’s Cage, and Fjord learning to get to grips with his new skillset, it felt like the Nein were long overdue a breather. Caduceus, Jester and Nott were happily distracted with home maintenance, but Beau got restless indoors - she liked understanding the feeling of the city she was in. After breakfast and training each morning, she’d head out.

Dairon and Beau tried to avoid being seen together too much, but they exchanged their plans and information to make both their time worthwhile - if Beau was crawling dive bars with Nott in the west, Dairon would be poking around the upper-class Dens in the east. Although they exchanged everything they knew, and Dairon was still reporting back to the Cobalt Soul, her mentor had yet to call the newest Expositor out on her intentions with her reconnaissance. It was strange, to be extended so much faith by someone in charge of her. Almost off-putting. But it felt good to know that if Dairon did ask again, Beau could answer honestly - her loyalties lay with the Mighty Nein, and ending bloodshed. If there was one thing her daily explorations of the pitch-black city and its alien society were teaching her, it was that people were just people. Thieves, snobs, beggars, families, idealistic students, crooked merchants, total dickheads and total innocents. They were all just - people. The Empire and the Dynasty, these mouldering, isolated, outdated institutions - they could both suck a fat one. If they wanted to tear each other apart, Beau thought, go nuts; just keep it away from everyone else.

Today she hadn’t learnt much that was useful, though had a pleasant lunch out with Yasha after stopping to finally pick up her long-overdue bracers; mostly silent but not that awkward. The two hadn’t really been alone together since Yasha told them all about Zuala, and Beau felt more at ease knowing where Yasha’s ambivalent responses to her flirting came from. Though they hadn’t discussed as much, she understood that Yasha was still too deep in that pain to move on yet.

Beau rolled through the front door, chimes tingling, to a warm, bright house and a fragrant, spicy smell wafting out of the kitchen. Caleb and Dairon were still out, but the rest of the party were at the table, Fjord and Caduceus deep in talk about something too spiritual for Beau to follow, but she was content to flop down next to them and slurp the delicious soup Cad had made, letting her mind wander.

Halfway through dinner, she realised Nott and Jester were being far too quiet, and why - Jester was stealthily carving something on the underside of the table while Nott suppressed giggles. Beau watched them, giving a sly conspiratorial smile when Jester looked up and realised she’d been spotted. Jester grinned at her; Beau winked, then abruptly the morning’s events rushed back to the forefront of her mind. Suddenly the gesture didn’t feel as innocent. She looked away, clearing her throat, and tried to focus instead on Caduceus’s dreamy intonations to a lost-looking Fjord about the significance of meditation. It didn’t work.

*

“Are you mad at me?”

“Wait, what?” Beau paused, her earring halfway out. The question came muffled through their ensuite bathroom door where Jester was changing; they’d gotten into a comfortable routine of swapping out their dressing and undressing this way, although seeing each other in underwear or washing up over the same sink in a hurry wasn’t uncommon. They often lapsed into comfortable silence after a long day - but if Jester wanted to talk to Beau, she’d usually just bounce right over and say it.

There was a pause. “Um… it just seemed like you were off with me a little bit today and I wanted to say sorry if I, like, made you uncomfortable this morning or something!” Jester’s tone was airy, but Beau could tell when she was nervous.

She laughed despite herself. “No way, I uh... it’s totally the other way around. I’m just embarrassed. Or like… worried that I made _ you _uncomfortable. This is both our space, and shit, so… it felt like I’d dirtied it behind your back or something… Ugh, that sounds stupid now I say it out loud. Gah, we’re so dumb.”

Jester emerged from the bathroom in one of her numerous frilly nightgowns, smiling, though her blue cheeks were flushed purplish. “Don’t be silly! It’s like I said, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.” She came up and hugged Beau from behind, who put her earrings down on the nightstand and gently held Jester’s arms, smiling despite herself. “It’s totally normal! If you want me to just give you the room in the morning or whatever, that’s fine. Everyone else has their own room so you know they are probably going nuts in there after all that time on the road.”

“Oh gods, Jester, _ please _don’t make me picture that.”

“Jizz all over the waaaaaaalls...”

“Auuugh, stop it!” Beau snorted, broke free and shuddered, languidly entering the bathroom and starting to strip off her vestments. “But, uh, y’know, same to you, any time, I guess.”

“Oh! Well, thanks.” Jester’s laugh was artificial, and Beau was glad of the door between them again as she untied her hair and listened carefully. “...To be honest, I… don’t really do that. So it’s okay.”

Beau stopped with her shirt halfway over her head. “Hold up, you don’t… what, masturbate? Like, ever?”

Another small, embarrassed laugh. “Well, I’ve tried, of course, but it never… um… works.”

“Oh.” Beau could feel herself becoming furiously uncomfortable, but she still regretted how quickly their previous talk about romance and pornography had shut down the second she’d shown a hint of judgement. It seemed Jester wanted to talk to her about this, so she’d try to be neutrally helpful. “Are you just not interested in sex? I figure Cad is like that, y’know, asexual. ‘Cause that’s fine, that’s normal. Not that I would, uh, relate… obviously.” _ Shut up, Beau! _

“I don’t think so… like, I do get those kind of feelings when I, um… read books, or whatever…” Jester’s voice was shrinking so small that Beau was forced to come back into the room to hear her properly, Jester curled up on her bed and immediately focusing on something very diverting on the opposite wall. “But I don’t know if I’m doing it right… like, even though I know so much about sex. And whenever I think about stuff by myself it’s like…” She clenched her hands and turned more purple than ever. “Okay, my mama is the best mama ever, and she made sure that my childhood was amazing and she tried to keep me far away from the business, okay? She did a great job!”

“Uh, yeah, I don’t doubt it,” Beau said mildly.

“So it’s like… totally not her fault that I would sneak out and see stuff I wasn’t supposed to, but…” Jester bit her lip and spoke very rapidly. “Whenever I try to think of sexy stuff or touch myself I can’t help thinking about like, my _ mama _and the other people who worked at the Chateau, and it feels totally wrong!”

“Oh. Wow, that’s fucked up, yeah, I can… I can totally see that. That makes sense. Um. Look, I didn’t have the most healthy of first relationships, or whatever… like, I got with To- this girl when we were too young and neither of us was experienced, but, uh… practice definitely helps. Especially with someone who does know what they’re doing. Like, this might be terrible advice, but… maybe when you eventually have a, uh, a healthy relationship with someone you trust… you’ll be able to get comfortable with sex. ‘Cause it won’t just be in your head any more, it’ll be about your feelings for the other person. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, totally!”

Beau chuckled, sprawling onto her own bed. “Shit, look at me, sounding like a damn therapist or something.”

“Thanks, Beau.” Jester finally turned back to meet her eyes, smiling, and snuggled against her numerous pillows, pulling out her sketchbook. “You’re right. I just have to meet the right boy and it will all come together then.” She sighed. “I mean, there’s Fjord, and he was technically my first kiss, I think? And I know him so well and I do trust him. But I get so embarrassed thinking dirty thoughts about him. Like, I joke about it, but for real, I couldn’t.”

“...Yeah.”

“And, and sometimes he can be weird and frustrating, and he just lies for no reason! But hopefully he’s done with lying now. But it still makes me mad and really confused because… I know people are complicated but, like, does he even like me?”

“Yeah.” Beau cleared her throat. “Gotta say, I’m not really the person to talk boys with. Sorry.” She grunted.

Jester seemed unperturbed, humming to herself and muttering occasionally as she commenced her usual evening’s drawings. Beau rolled over, staring at the wardrobe and thinking sour, mean thoughts, not sure why she was suddenly in a mood.

*

The background sound of Jester’s conversational chatter to the Traveler and her usual nightly _ Sending _messages. Thoughts spiralling around Beau’s head, the same useless circular thoughts - her father, her mother, her brother.

Softly. “Beau?”

Dairon. The Bright Queen. Molly (always Molly). Regrets, frustrations. She was nearly asleep.

“Hey, Beau?”

“Hrm. I’m awake.”

“I was talking to the Traveler about what you said and I was thinking. About um… learning about sex with… someone I trust.”

“Mm.”

“And, um, he pointed out that there’s… always the magic he taught me.”

“Mm.” After a moment Beau’s brain fully woke up and she rolled over. “Wait, what? Please don’t fuck the Traveler, that’s all kinds of messed up. Wait, can you even-”

“Oh my gosh, _ Beau_! No! That’s not what I meant!” Jester whisper-shrieked, hiding her face in a pillow. “No! He’s my best friend! Ew, that’s so… no! I meant _ you_!”

“Wh.” Beau’s entire body went cold. “...Me?”

Jester’s face stayed in her pillow, her voice a muffled squeak. “Remember when you were a hot tiefling man. You were really like… _ really _sexy. And you seemed like you were owning it and stuff. And I already did see your dick then. So I just thought. Well, now I say it out loud it’s really weird and I’m sorry-”

“No, no, uh… let me just….” Beau sat up in the darkness, her heart beating stupidly loud somewhere in her throat. But for real. Was she even awake? Was this some kind of dream test from the goddess of useless lesbians? “Of course I - yeah. Would you really be okay with that? I wouldn’t be… it feels like I’d be taking advantage.”

Jester dared a look at her, eyes huge. “No, it’s totally - more like I’m objectifying _ you_, and I’m sorry. I mean - I shouldn’t assume that just because you like ladies that you would sleep with me-”

“No, I would - I - I mean - as your friend, of course… I don’t mind…”

Jester had burrowed fully underneath her duvet now, but seemed to be nodding. “Oh! Okay, okay, okay, that’s good.” 

“So is this-” Beau licked her lips. Was she sweating? Why was she sweating? “Are we both into this idea? Because in that case it’s a fucking good idea.”

Rather than answer, Jester stuck out a mortified arm from her covers, and cast _ Polymorph. _

Now, Beau had certain things she liked in bed with a woman. And damn, had she been with enough women to know exactly what those things were. She liked being on bottom, for one thing, but she liked to fight her way there. She liked being bratty and mouthy, and she liked being punished for it. She liked a woman who took initiative, who’d push her onto her back, straddle her hips, tease her until she begged for mercy.

But this wasn’t about her. She put her hands on her slim hips, admired her chiseled red chest with its dusting of black hair, and cleared her deep throat, feeling the unfamiliar tail lashing behind her. Reached up to stroke the rigid, rough horns that had sprung out of her head.

Beau wasn’t the most prideful of people. She was well aware of her many shortcomings, the shit that other people had up on her, the things she failed at time and time again. But hey, she could be cocky when she knew she was good. And when it came to what women wanted… Beau was _ good_.

*

Her head was hazy, her heartbeat a drum solo, living the surrealness of a dream as two bodies tangled together in one generous bed, Jester’s cool ice-resistant skin mingling with Beau’s new red-hot temperature to create a warm medium. Beau pressed kisses down Jester’s neck, the line of her collarbone, gripped the lacy neckline of her bodice and pulled it down, Jester’s incredible tits springing free, full and firm. “God damn,” she murmured, her throaty voice not her own, and rose up, flexing her toned abs and leaning down slow to meet Jester’s face, a whisper away from her lips. “This still okay?”

“It’s so good. It’s so good.” Jester’s voice was a breathy murmur, trembling as if on the verge of tears, but Beau remembered that feeling, the overwhelming sensation of her first time, like she’d explode from nervous energy. She captured Jester’s lips in a soft kiss as she groped for a handful, squeezing lightly, feeling Jester’s nipple harden under her fingers. She couldn’t help herself then, leaning down and pressing her mouth to Jester’s ample breast.

She could feel Jester’s soaking pussy where she straddled her, and the alien, but not unwelcome, sensation of her achingly hard cock straining in response, as yet untouched inside her pants. Jester’s hand moved to her head as she sucked, stroking Beau’s horns - a strange, tingling sensation - then suddenly squeezed her hair tight with a tiny moan of surprise when Beau grazed the nipple with her teeth.

Well, she might be playing suave today, but a hand in her hair just made Beau want one thing. She placed her hand high up Jester’s inner thigh, felt the warmth there, and met Jester’s low-lidded eyes with a cocky smirk, the possessive hand still in her hair. “Can I go down on you, Jes?”

Jester inhaled sharply. “You... really want to do that?”

“You’re so beautiful.” She kept forgetting to embrace her man-voice. Cleared her throat and purred low. “Let me take care of you, baby.”

She plunged her head in between those heavenly thighs and savoured it. Because it was _Jester_, and Beau would pull out every stop to make this perfect for her.

When Jester’s orgasm finally coursed through her, Beau wouldn’t have known the difference if a damn earthquake was taking the house down. Jester’s entire body seized, smacking her hands to her mouth to hold in a cry, her shuddering thighs nearly crushing Beau’s head - and hell, if Beau was gonna die, this was how she’d always hoped she would go.

When Beau rose up, face boiling with sweat and dew, Jester was crying - big, hiccupy sobs. “I’m _ happy_,” she shakily explained, laughing through her tears at the alarm on Beau’s face. “I’m just - so happy I can’t believe it.”

Beau reached a thumb out to wipe her eyes, noticed her hands were once again small and brown. “Oh. Uh..."

“Oh… I lost my concentration!”

“That makes sense.” Beau laughed, leaned in to kiss her again before realising half a second too late that she was herself again, jerking back awkwardly. The hard-on in her pants was gone, but the feeling certainly wasn’t.

Jester didn’t appear to have noticed. She leaned back heavily, giggles escaping despite herself. “That was… wow. That was pretty amazing. You really know what you’re doing, Beau…”

“I sure do.” Beau waggled her tongue.

“It’s crazy to think that people can come more than one time. I feel like I’m made of jelly! Like… I need to lie down for a year.” She wiped her eyes. “That was so… oh my gosh.”

“Sleep it off if that’s what you feel like,” Beau said mildly, kneeling back up. Her pants were still on, but since the spell had dropped her boobs were now out, and, she was vaguely aware, betraying the throbbing ache in her crotch, her dark nipples erect. She crossed her arms, coughing.

Jester put her hands on her face, too caught in thought to notice. “Well, I…” Her cheeks flushed purple again, eyes darting to Beau’s. “I do still have a bit more magic...”

*

They didn’t get much sleep that night. Or the night after that, or the night after that.

They didn’t talk about it in the mornings, just gave each other small, secret smiles. Now the idle days stretched on for so long, and each moment Beau was counting the minutes until the spell washed over her and she could be Jester’s man again.

By the end of the week, Jester was starting to know what she liked. She could guide Beau’s hand to touch her, tell her yes, no, faster, slower. And when she finally whispered “_I want you inside me,_” - well, Beau had used a strap or two in her time, she figured she knew what to do. But good gods, was this different.

It was her turn to come undone all at once, without warning and humiliatingly fast, gasping and apologising even as the sensation overwhelmed her, gripping Jester’s ass tight to her hips, grunting. “Oh, fuck - _ Jessie_!”

Beau gasped for breath. Sound came back in, the stars faded from her vision, and she pulled out of Jester, all at once soft, sticky, and ashamed. “Shit… I didn’t think that would happen so fucking _ fast, _I… sorry. Ah, shit. Is this…”

“It’s okay,” Jester said, sitting up on her knees, though she did sound puzzled. “I mean… it must be fine, right? It’s not like it’s a real dick.”

Beau snorted. “Yeah. I guess.” She kissed Jester’s right rib where she knew she was ticklish to avoid killing the mood, sending her into a squealing fit of giggles.

And that was what it was, for a few strange and perfect weeks. With no sunset or sunrise to orient her here, Beau was aware she was sleep-deprived, distracted; but she could have stayed awake forever, electric on the high of Jester’s kisses. The nights were long, but never long enough.

Then Caleb finished his training, the war called them to the Empire again, and they bid Rosohna farewell to take the road once more - and whatever this was, it ended like it had begun; with no ceremony and no declaration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and tolerating my attempts at smut - the rest of the fic won't be as explicit, if at all, because plot.
> 
> New chapters should be posted weekly (I've written up to 4 so far, anticipate about 8?). Hope you've enjoyed; please leave a comment if so, they make my day :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Nein hits the road, and something's going on with Jester. Caduceus makes an offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a little gore & vomit. Don't read while eating!

Bandits. Why did it have to be bandits?

It just seemed stupid at this point to even have to deal with idiots like these. Like, they had survived hoards of zombies and demons, a creepy laughing undead dude from hell, an underwater murder witch, minotaurs, manticores, a fucking _ ancient dragon_. But no, Beau thought angrily, as she gripped her staff for balance, spun in a roundhouse kick and swept the jackass behind her off his feet, while the one in front of her still reeled from her stunning strike - no, these bozos apparently didn’t get the goddamn memo not to fuck with the Mighty Nein.

A sharp flare of heat in front of her in a bright flash - she jerked back instinctually as the bandit she’d just knocked over howled in pain, clothes sizzling from Caleb’s firebolt. He was a healthy distance away, she was glad to see, and, like all of them, was pulling his punches rather than unleashing his full firepower - partially because these guys obviously didn’t deserve what the Nein could dish out, and partially because they’d only just started travelling for the day, and nobody wanted to waste their strength on a fight this pointless.

She refocused as the guy she’d stunned lurched back to his feet, spinning her quarterstaff into a defensive grip and easily blocking him as he tried to run at her low with a dagger. She grunted and pushed him off; pulled her left fist back for a concussive blow - but he had stopped moving. He sank to one knee, gave an odd throaty gurgle, then fell.

It took a second to blink away the adrenaline and take in the sudden gushing fountain of blood as Beau registered the arrow sticking out of his neck.

“Fuuuckin’ overkill much?” She exhaled, pinning her quarterstaff to her back again as she confirmed that yes, the fight was now very much over, Caleb’s last firebolt dispatching her other assailant, the first of the bandits having been easily beaten into unconsciousness by Yasha.

“Oh! Come on, Nott, was that really necessary?” Fjord clicked his fingers to dismiss the Star Razor in a spray of snowfall, walking over to examine the bleeding-out corpse with distaste, all the more prim in his new/old accent.

“Sorry, sorry!” Nott emerged with both hands up from where she’d perched near-invisible behind one of the sparse trees that framed the dirt road. “First instinct! We’ve just been fighting horrible creatures that want to eat our brains for ages, I got a little kill-happy!”

“Well, it is a good thing both his friends are unconscious,” said Caleb in his usual monotone. “We should probably make sure they don’t see this until we are well shot of here.”

“I mean, I could bring him back,” contributed Caduceus.

“Whoa, hang on, okay maybe let’s not spend an entire diamond on this guy. They are pretty expensive!” Jester was last to join the circle, her spiritual lollipop still hanging above her for a few seconds before she noticed, dispelling it with a pop like the crack of bubblegum. She had been a little slow on her game in the action, Beau had noted - the last to take initiative, and she didn’t remember seeing the lollipop land a single hit, its swings wide and delayed. Jester now was wrinkling her nose and pressing one hand to her sternum, though that might just be her distaste at the idea of wasting expensive components.

Anyway. Beau shook her head. She shouldn’t keep staring at Jester with all the group around. It wasn’t like she had any reason to (besides how everyone stared at Jester when she did something just... so ridiculous or so sweet). She cleared her throat and agreed. “Yeah, like, it sounds kinda harsh but it’s his fault for attacking people on the road. Risks of the job, man. Shouldn’t have been an asshole.”

There was a general uncomfortable consensus of agreement from the group. “Ah, well, should we dump the body? Or Caleb could burn it!” Nott suggested, a trifle too gleefully to make her remorse convincing.

Fjord grimaced. “Let’s - let’s tie up the other two first and drag the body away a bit before, er, disposing of it. If they wake up we tell them - what, their friend ran for it?”

Caduceus piped up. “We could tell the truth. After all, it is a dangerous profession. Could be an effective deterrent - someone ought to inform them they’re terrible bandits.” He then blinked his long lashes at the silence that ensued. “Was that a bad idea?”

“No, it’s just.” Beau cleared her throat, unable to meet anyone’s eyes, knowing they’d all been struck by the same thought. “Something Molly used to do.”

And didn’t the ache that was always in the pit of her stomach bubble up to choke her in the throat now. Grief was a backstabber like that, rising huge and real and all-encompassing just when you’d been able to push it down. Yasha was still silent, but her fists clenched.

Fjord straightened his shoulders, changing the subject. “Well. We don’t have all day. Yasha, Jessie, you good to move the body?”

“Sure,” said Yasha. Jester nodded, and Nott began unspooling rope.

Beau sighed and began stretching her arms out, shaking her fists briskly. They really didn’t need more murders on their hands at the beginning of a stealth mission. At least nobody was around. In her peripheral vision Caduceus checked a slash on Fjord’s arm. Yasha picked the body up by the shoulders with casual ease, indicating to Jester, who walked stiffly to the legs and hesitated, setting her chin and exhaling deeply before bending to pick them up.

“Hey... Jester, is everything okay? You seem kinda off,” Beau couldn’t help asking.

Jester nodded quickly, plastering a smile onto her face. “Oh, yeah, I just feel a teensy bit ill today... but I didn’t want to complain, you know!”

“We can take it easy for you,” said Caleb amenably, as Nott shrieked “Don’t give me your germs! I mean - oh. Poor you.”

Jester snorted a laugh. “Really, you guys, it’s not a big deal! I- uh-“ she hitched the bandit corpse’s legs up over one shoulder, and the motion caused the arrow in the neck to shift and dislodge, releasing another unnatural wheezing gurgle from the pierced trachea as more blood and fluid oozed out of the neck hole.

“Oh, yuck,” said Yasha mildly with no real aversion, as Jester gulped, doubled over, retched, and vomited her breakfast all over the blood-soaked body.

*

Beau stretched her legs and let loose a huge yawn, watching Frumpkin watch the campfire. The flames danced in his calm yellow eyes. She still didn’t really get whether he was a real cat or not, but he was acting like one now at least, sat in a comfortable loaf on Caleb’s lap, who was beginning to nod off despite himself.

“We’re all pretty tired. I’ll take first watch,” volunteered Caduceus. Apart from the early morning attack, it had been an uneventful day’s travel on the road from the border towards Trostenwald, the group taking a slow pace on the horses despite Jester’s continued insistence that she actually felt fine.

“I’ll take it with you!” Jester now chirped, rolling her eyes at the immediate overlapping chorus of protests from the rest of the party. “Seriously, you guys, I don’t feel sick any more! I probably just had a bad pastry.”

“Still, we don’t all need to take a watch. It’ll be good for you to get a full night’s rest,” Beau said firmly.

“Ugh, fine. But I’m not tired. Geez, you sound like my mama.” Jester pouted, but began unrolling her sleeping gear as the rest of the party did the same, Fjord corralling the horses and securing them to a tree, Frumpkin slinking over and leaping up onto Caduceus’s shoulders as the firbolg settled himself by the dwindling campfire’s edge. Nott snuggled into Caleb’s side, and Yasha, being Yasha, set up her bed a measure away from the rest of them. It really was like old times, Beau mused tiredly as she settled down to sleep. But now these people were her family.

She wasn’t really aware of falling asleep, only noting that the firelight had almost died when she hazily tuned into a quiet voice over the snores and settled breathing of the slumbering party.

“Hey. Still awake?”

She was about to roll over and greet Caduceus when another voice answered, soft, Nicodranian-accented. “Oh, hey. Yeah, I really couldn’t sleep. I can’t get comfy, you know?”

Beau laid her head back down hastily, closed her eyes, listening to the shifting noise of material as Jester slid free of her blankets.

“I, ah, I’m glad we have this opportunity, actually. I wanted to talk to you for a moment,” said Caduceus. Oh man. Beau _ really _ should go back to sleep. She screwed her eyes tighter as if that would help, but her ears were undeniably pricked.

“Sure! You can talk to me about anything, Caduceus,” Jester answered brightly. A pause. “Is everything alright? Something bothering you?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s about you, actually, not me. I don’t want to make any assumptions, so... if this is inappropriate, I hope you’ll let me know.”

It was unusually cautious for Cad. Jester was evidently perturbed as well, giving a nervous giggle. “Um, what do you mean? Have I done something wrong?”

“Oh, gosh, no. I don’t mean to be so cryptic, I... Let me put this as plainly as I can. There’s a family recipe my mother taught me, for, ah, early intervention in situations such as your own. It’s a bitter root tea, and I have most of the ingredients I’d need. If you’d like me to make it for you, you need only ask. It’ll take a day to brew. Tastes terrible, and you’ll feel poorly in the morning, but... it puts a stop to things quite reliably. So the offer’s there, and, ah, as I said, if that’s not what you want to do...”

“Caduceus,” Jester interrupted with that same nervous-laughing tone, “That wasn’t actually at all plain. What do you mean, bitter tea? Like for my stomach?”

“Well, for...” Another silence, a minute shift of a gesture.

“For what?” Jester repeated.

“For your pregnancy, for ending it.”

“_What_?” Jester’s half-hushed exclamation started in tandem with Beau’s heart and stomach flipping over each other. What - was she - _ Jester_? - Beau was pinned to the spot, unable to do anything but listen.

“Oh my gosh, I am not _ pregnant_! Caduceus!” Jester’s voice was a scandalised hiss. “Yeah, I threw up, but it’s probably food poisoning! I can’t, like - I haven’t had _ sex _ with...”

In the seconds of dread silence that followed, Beau felt sure they were having the exact same thought. But could that even be possible, biologically? Surely not. It was only magic. Just - silly, showy, very much _ temporary _ magic. Okay, everything had felt very real, but...

“Oh. Wow. Well, I certainly could be wrong. It’s happened many times,” was Caduceus’s mild answer. “I’ve just sort of been assuming that for the past few weeks, based on-”

“_Weeks_?”

This time the shriek really was too loud to be called a whisper, and various grumblings and mutterings occurred as the members of the Mighty Nein blearily grabbed for weapons. “What, what is it?” Fjord mumbled, eyes still half-closed.

“Oh - no, sorry guys!” Beau permitted her eyes to open and saw Jester’s cheeks were flushed purple as she laughed, shrill with false calm. “I just - um, I just saw a _ crazy _ big bug, and I was like, _ wow_! Sorry!” If her fluster showed, most of the others were too sleepy to notice, and Caduceus nodded neutrally.

“Well, that is not a surprise, they are often crawling out of Mr. Clay’s things. Please do not wake us for this sort of thing next time,” Caleb mumbled into his pillow.

“Did you save it?” Yasha asked alertly, a glint of hunger in her eyes.

“Ahh, no, sorry! It... flew... away.” Jester trailed off lamely.

Yasha shrugged, rolling back over. As silence resumed, Beau watched Jester, enraptured and paralysed, as her face dropped, doubt and fear now in the corners of her mouth and her quick worried eyes.

“I owe you an apology,” Caduceus said finally. “I didn’t mean to cause you distress.”

“No, it’s... it’s okay,” said Jester, mutely distracted, as her eyes fell onto Beau’s own. Beau blinked, unmistakably awake, no idea what Jester might be reading in her taut face. “I… I don’t think I want to talk any more, though. You can sleep.”

“Of course,” he replied, terribly gently.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand.”

They stared at each other in the dim illumination of the dying fire, until Caduceus’s breathing eventually slowed to an even snore. But they didn’t speak. Somehow neither of them could start. Beau lay statue-still, hearbeat tattooing the inside of her chest, thunder-loud, echoing unanswered questions she saw in Jester’s shining eyes.

*

She thought she’d never fall asleep, the way her anxiety leapt around her veins. But when she woke in a moment of confused calm, the sound that roused her sent a jolt of panic straight back up her spine - the muffled noise of Jester hurling her guts out in the nearby bushes.

“Ah, _ scheisse…_” said Caleb, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Yasha, it seemed, had sweetly walked over and was holding Jester’s hair back for her.

“Don’t go near her, we’ll all get it!” Nott squawked, which made Fjord shoot her a look.

“Everything all right, Jester?” he called over carefully.

She held up a thumbs up while still doubled over, and gave a miserable cough. “Mm-hm! Better now! Just needed to get it out of my system!” The tone wasn’t entirely convincing. Yasha, who had momentarily frozen in indecision after Nott’s shout, shrugged and helped pull Jester to her feet, offering her a scrap of cloth to wipe her face with.

“We should rest until you feel well enough to travel,” said Caduceus, offering up his waterskin.

Jester still looked pale, but she dusted her skirts and firmly shook her head as she sipped the drink. “Don’t be silly. We have to get to Zadash as soon as possible for Essek, you guys. I’ll be fine.”

“Let us take a gentle pace,” suggested Caleb. “Nott, you should ride on my shoulders instead today.”

“Oh, Caleb, that’s sweet, but you’re too weak... Beau will carry me.”

Beau gave an obligatory huff of laughter and nodded, but her eyes were still fixed on Jester as she saddled her horse and let Nott scale her like a monkey.

Jester did already look better as they began journeying, but that wasn’t comforting. Beau didn’t know shit about pregnancy, but she sure knew morning sickness was a thing. Oh, gods, she needed to do research. And now here she was sounding like Caleb… Was that how stressed she was?

Maybe Caleb would know about this, whether magical pregnancy was possible. But she couldn’t possibly ask him, it was too specific, he would realise something was up. Would Caduceus know? She needed to talk to him. Really, she needed to talk to _ Jester. _ What was she thinking? She didn’t look as scared as Beau felt, but she was still obviously preoccupied, her mouth set in a hard line instead of its usual resting smile. What did she want to do? Would she... want to keep it? If _ it _existed? They needed a concrete answer before they could have that conversation. And where did Beau come into this, how much responsibility-

“Beau!”

Small claws yanked painfully at her hair, Beau tightening the reins instinctually as she tensed, making her horse nicker and rear a little in protest, coming to a sharp halt. “Ow! _ Fuck_, Nott!”

“You were about to ride us straight into a fence! Eyes on the road!” Nott waved a green hand in front of Beau’s face as she blinked and realised it was true; they’d reached a sharp corner on the fenced-off dirt road, and her horse now pawed the ground and righted itself, turning to follow the group, who had now paused to stare.

“Ah, shit. Sorry.”

“You seem quite distracted, Beauregard. Are you feeling ill too?” Caleb commented mildly.

“I’m not safe anywhere…” Nott muttered, scrambling off Beau’s shoulders and hopping onto the ground. She waved an accusing finger between Beau and Jester. “This, this is because of you two sleeping together!” 

“Wh-what?” Beau spluttered.

“Oh, don’t be silly, you know what I mean! You’re always snuggling up at night and now you’re infected too! And I’m next…” Nott was already backing away, hands out in front of her as if warding off an evil force.

“Well, if there’s an infectious disease in the group, then we’d probably all have caught it by the time symptoms start showing,” Caduceus offered, smiling as he said so. Seeing the look on all of their faces, he added, “But here’s a little protection cantrip for everyone, just in case. Should help.” He lowered himself gently from his horse and went up to each person in turn, waving his hand with a flicker of magic.

“Hey, that’s a point - Deuces, can’t you cast some sort of… healing, restoration thing on Jester? And Beau?” Fjord piped up.

“I’m not sick,” Beau interjected. “Don’t think I can really get diseases any more? It’s like, an advanced monk thing. ‘Cause I’m all spiritually in harmony with my body now, and shit.”

“You are?” Fjord looked distinctly doubtful.

“I get the feeling a healing spell wouldn’t help Jester’s symptoms, ah… sometimes it’s not that simple, unfortunately,” said Caduceus. Beau narrowed her eyes at him. He was being generously cryptic, but he wasn’t an accomplished liar. Someone was gonna notice.

“Oh my gosh, this conversation is so fucking boring! Can we just move?” Jester snapped, so sharply that nobody knew what to say for a moment.

“Right…” Fjord cleared his throat. “Nott, want to hop on board - oh.” He watched as Nott was already clambering up Yasha’s great black horse without asking.

“Don’t be silly, Fjord. I would crush you,” she said primly, resting her elbows in Yasha’s thick head of hair, the aasimar neutrally accepting it.

“Wh - I am not that weak! Especially now, I have - I have muscles now, remember!”

“No, no, you would crumple like a napkin. I can’t do that to you, Fjord,” Nott intoned gravely as they set off again. Caleb hid a smile.

“This is ridiculous-”

Under the noise of their continued bickering, Beau, still taking up the rear of the pack, drew her horse up to Jester, whose face was set and unreadable. “We should talk,” she made herself say, keeping her voice steady. “Alone.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jester @ traveler: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EShUeudtaFg
> 
> Thanks for reading! Next chapter out next Wednesday!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jester and Beau talk about it, and gain a co-conspirator.

The Nestled Nook was almost unnervingly unchanged from the Nein’s first meeting, what felt like lifetimes upon lifetimes ago - the rush in Beau’s stomach at their victory by the Ustaloch, proving herself in a real fight against a real monster. The thrill of gold on the table, the sack small, but so worth its weight in that she’d actually _ earned _ it by doing something good, something that had nothing to do with who her father was.

And the butterflies that came with meeting Fjord and Jester, who had seemed to know each other, but had let her in so readily and with such easy kindness, no suspicion. Beau had never been great at friends before. She’d known it was the start of something, even before that night at the carnival. She just could never have imagined what.

The whole party was in a similarly contemplative mood as they stretched out their saddle-weary legs and sipped their Trost - a few start-and-stop idle conversations, halted by the knowledge they couldn’t speak openly about their next steps, not in an Empire tavern full of listening ears. Nott knocked the mugs back with her usual enthusiasm, Cad was observing the group, smiling to himself in that genuine way of his, and Jester was just quiet, swirling her milk.

Yorda came to the table with a second round at Nott’s request, looking around at them. “Why, I do remember some of you, now that I think about it! Though you’re new.” She gestured to Caduceus, who gave an acknowledging nod. “And I think you had another colourful friend with you? But, yes, not many, er-“ She looked between all of them, especially Fjord, Jester and Yasha, seeming to backtrack on her sentence suddenly. “Well, not so many _ interesting _ customers we get!” She gave an awkward laugh.

“Interesting, that’s certainly us,” Fjord replied smoothly. “Er - we’ll probably be retiring soon, are there any rooms available?”

“Oh...” Yorda looked up and around her regretfully. “Only got two rooms spare, my love. Is that okay?”

“_Ja _ , we are used to huddling up. Mainly it will do you good to sleep in a real bed. You seem exhausted,” Caleb replied, looking Jester’s way cautiously.

“Aw, I’m not that tired. You don’t have to do that, Caleb! I can share the bed. It will be fun!”

Her response was standard Jester, sweet and confident - and in fact, she didn’t look bad, realised Beau. Not that she would go so far as any frilly language like _ glowing _ or whatever, just normal - but it made her realise that all of them were projecting this pall of death onto Jester simply because she had been so silent all day. Normally when they traveled there’d be a constant flow of random songs, observations, anecdotes that went nowhere, musings aloud to the Traveler, word games... It wasn’t apparent how much the Nein relied on one bubbly tiefling’s extroversion to keep their spirits high until it was gone, Beau thought.

They drank a little while longer until conversation lulled. Nott was fairly deep in her cups, and Caleb had sipped enough to start him staring deeply at the table with his sorrowful thousand-year weariness. Fjord, stifling a yawn, finally announced he was off to bed. “Ah… how are we doing this? Boys and girls?”

“Seems an unnecessary distinction to make, but sure. I’ll join you,” said Caduceus, droopy-eyed, and there were swift mutterings of agreement - even Yasha, who never seemed to tire, stretched hugely with a crack of her muscle-bound shoulders.

“We’ll be up in a minute,” said Beau, touching Jester’s arm as she stood. “Just gonna get the tab.”

“Okay…?” Nott responded, giving them a sidelong glance as the rest of the group trooped upstairs.

Jester and Beau counted out the party’s coins and paid Yorda, who seemed to sense the tension in the way the two of them purposely lingered, and made a point to busy herself in the back room once the bill was settled with a generous tip. It was near midnight, the Nestled Nook now empty.

Beau swallowed and sat back down at the table, Jester opposite. Not looking at Beau directly, she quietly asked “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

There was a pause, then Beau began to add “Do you think-”

“I should say-” Jester began simultaneously.

“You go.”

“I, um.” Jester startled twiddling one of the bright dangling stones on the hem of her skirt. “I don’t know for sure. But.”

“But you think it’s… possible?” Beau asked hoarsely. Now that it was out there, all the questions she’d been bursting with all day suddenly seemed harder to voice. “I mean. It’s _ not _possible. Unless, uh, I don't think there’s anyone else you could have, um-”

“There’s nobody else.” Jester cut her off, laughing. “Nobody but you, Beau, trust me.” She finally looked at her, her big violet eyes shining. “I - like - I’m not stupid, I - of course my mama was always super firm that I learn the risks, and to be safe and sensible! But I just didn’t think that _ this _ would-” she broke off, staring keenly at nothing.

Beau ached to move closer, didn’t dare to, the space between them so uncertain now.

“I’ve been kinda achey, and I feel _ weird. _ I feel all messy, like anxious or really pissed off and then suddenly fine. And obviously, I keep barfing… and um. My period is two weeks late. It’s usually…” Jester trailed off very quietly. “And I… asked the Traveler last night, after Caduceus said all that. Because he always knows the answers to my questions. And he was like… being all weird and evasive and eventually he just said it’s hard for him to know this early, but that strange things happen when you use magic sometimes…” Her voice shook.

Head spinning, Beau tried to put her own feelings aside, hesitantly reached up her hand to stroke Jester’s shoulder. “Oh, Jes...”

“I don’t… I guess I can’t be totally sure. But I have a feeling. And Caduceus said it, and he’s really smart about stuff like that. Like, sensing what’s going on with people. And I… I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s - it’s okay.” Beau took a deep breath, without the faintest clue of the right thing to say. Usually she tried to picture what Fjord would do, but in this case that didn’t help. “We don’t have to do anything right now, I mean… you’ve got time to think about your options. There’s-”

“I don’t have time!” Jester flinched away from Beau as her voice reached a pitchy squeak. “Everyone already keeps fussing over me and they are not stupid and they will guess! And - we’ll - I will have to explain to everyone, like, _ how _ it happened because they’ll be all worried about me! And if I wait too long to decide, then I will just like, _ have _ a _ baby_!”

Somewhere behind them there was a sharp intake of breath.

Beau shot up from her stool, sending it clattering to the ground. “Who’s there?” she growled, raising her fists. “I’m fucking warning you, show yourself right now or-”

“It’s me! Jeez, it’s me, sorry, don’t kill me!” With a hiccup, Nott blinked into visibility where she was crouched by the staircase, hands raised in surrender, yellow eyes huge.

Beau exhaled. “You little shit...”

“Y-you offered to pay the bill, so I knew something was up - anyway - that doesn’t matter, that doesn’t matter! _ You! _ What!?” Nott jabbed an accusing finger at Jester. “I - I thought I must just be misinterpreting but - _ what_? Explain - everything! Now!”

“Keep your fucking voice down, you wanna tell the whole goddamn building?” Beau hissed, but Jester waved her off, patting the seat next to her.

“No, she deserves to know. You are a great detective, Nott, I should have guessed this would not escape you,” she said solemnly.

“Is it...” Drunken bravado gave way to honest uncertainty as Nott made her way over and hopped onto the stool. “Is this true, Jester, you’re... pregnant?”

“I... maybe.”

“And - but how - Beau, you have something to do with this? I don’t understand...”

“Remember Assarius?”

“Yeah...”

“Remember how I polymorphed Beau?”

“Yeah... I... _ Oh_! Oh my _ god_! But wait, that was ages ago, how -”

“We,” Beau coughed, arms folded, on the defensive. “Decided to recreate it for, y’know. A few nights. For fun. Like, not a big deal.”

Jester nodded. “Yeah, absolutely. Not a big deal! I mean, it’s a spell! A freaking hour-long spell!”

Already they were dealing with exactly what Jester had feared - as Beau did too, though she hadn’t said as much. Having to explain themselves, dragging those heady, private nights into the cold light of day, and putting a label on what they were - which was to say, over and done. Not meaningful, not real; an experiment, a game.

She didn’t know why that was painful to think. She didn’t feel coy or regretful about her night with Reani, or with Keg, or any of the women before them. She guessed it was just because… Well, it was Jester. She was special. She was delicate. She felt so deeply. Her heart had never really been hurt before. Beau would not be the one to ruin that. She’d follow Jester’s lead in this, wherever it went.

Nott placed her face in her hands, eyes wide as saucers. “Wow... I don’t even know how to take this... You dirty dogs! Under my own roof. My Caleb sleeps in that house!”

“Stop it, Nott!” Jester looked on the verge of tears again, and Nott grabbed her hands apologetically.

“Oh, Jester, I’m only joking, I don’t mean it - a baby! I mean, a baby that’s half you and half Beau, that’s - that’s _ crazy_, but it could be wonderful!”

“...I think that too,” Jester whispered. “But it’s also really scary and I - I know I _ do _ want to be a mama. I always have. But I didn’t think it would be this soon, and we have important adventures to go on that can’t wait!”

“Of course,” Nott squeezed Jester’s hands. “And you know that I support you, Jester, if you don’t want it, then I’ll be there for you through that too, but - but speaking as a mother, it’s... hard not to think that it’s a rather magical thing, and could be... could be a good thing.”

“I mean, magical is right.” Beau supplied.

“And you!“ Nott whirled around dizzily to stab her finger at Beau. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten you! Are you willing to take responsibility for this? You need to be. Whatever happens, your - your _ ministrations _ caused it!” Beau and Jester both snorted at that, then shared a simultaneous smile for the first time in a while.

“Are you kidding me? Seriously, Nott, you don’t have to tell me that. I mean, being a fucking... mother, I guess? _ Father_? Either way... it was never something I thought would apply to me. But like, I love Jester, of course I’m gonna take care of her, and… and this. There’s no question about that.” Beau answered defensively, but honestly, crossing her arms and leaning back on her stool.

“Right. Just as long as you do. Because I’ll be watching you very carefully.” Nott jumped up and stood on the table so that she was above them both, swaying slightly. “And another thing! What’s this about you talking to Caduceus about this instead of me? He doesn’t know anything about how babies are made, he probably thinks he sprouted fully-formed in a cabbage patch! There’s only _ one _ person in this party who’s actually gone through this whole gory process before.”

Jester blanched. “Oh, but I didn’t actually tell him, he asked-“

“Listen up! Firstly - if you’re even starting to think about keeping this thing, then your diet, missy, needs serious reform! I’m talking vegetables, I’m talking protein, I’m talking _ healthy _ carbs!”

“Nott, people are sleeping.” Beau hissed.

“Secondly! Travelling on horseback-”

“Um… is everything all right, ladies?” came a mild voice. They all froze and turned to see Yorda in the doorway, holding a mug of tea and clearly fighting alarm.

Nott instinctively grabbed for where her mask would usually lie around her neck, realised it wasn’t there, and crouched bizarrely instead, no less conspicuous. Beau drew herself to her feet in front of Nott. “Uh… yeah. Yeah, sorry, we’re just. We’re gonna head to bed now. Sorry, Yorda.”

Jester nodded, then began fumbling in her haversack. “Sorry, Yorda.” Whatever she was looking for, she came out with a mostly-crumbled, very stale macaron. “Here… have this.” She walked forward and placed it delicately into the dwarf’s hands.

Yorda looked at the biscuit, perplexed, then obviously decided it wasn’t worth pursuing. “Right. Thank you… Er, good night then!”

“Night.”

The three of them crept up the stairs, Nott sober all at once. “We’ll talk more soon,” she whispered. “I’ll help cover for you for now.”

When they came to their small room Yasha was sat on the windowsill, gazing at the sky. She regarded the group neutrally.

“Oh. We were just… talking,” Beau said awkwardly.

Yasha nodded, moonlight on her pale face. “I figured. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.” Lightly hurt.

Beau lay heavily on her bed, feeling like an asshole. “Any, uh… any storms coming?”

“Nope,” said Yasha with a heavy sigh. “Not a cloud in the sky.”

*

Despite what they’d agreed, there was barely any time for the three women to talk alone as the party continued their slow journey towards Zadash over the next couple of weeks; camping out in the dome or the occasional inn, but rarely splitting the group. It was evident, though, that what had begun as a wild possibility was indisputably solidifying. Jester’s bouts of sickness continued on a daily basis with no signs of stopping, but she was so loudly irritated with the party’s concern that it became an awkward part of their morning on which nobody commented.

The day after they left Alfield she began asking Caleb for the exact date, and exactly how many days since they had left Xhorhas, so often that it was obviously beginning to perplex the wizard - though he didn’t press for reasons. When they finally did get a moment somewhat alone that day, both riding at the rear of the party, Jester brought her horse close to Beau’s and whispered in her ear “It’s been six weeks.”

“Huh? Six weeks?”

“Since.” Jester hissed, and made a baffling gesture, jerking her abdomen, any meaning obfuscated by her grip on the reins and the steady trotting motion of her mount. “You know. Since we first did the - the full thing! And I haven’t had any periods.”

“Oh.” Beau didn’t know what to say. She was glad Jester thought to tell her, but right now, still not knowing how Jester felt, it was hard to know if she was being informed as a close friend or a guilty party.

Gods, she missed when things were simpler. Going over the same memories over and over, wondering if she’d been deeply stupid to ever agree to their arrangement, pathetic and horny and impulsive… She never got any satisfactory conclusions, just the fear that she’d ruined the best friendship - hell, the best relationship of any kind - she’d ever had.

Nott, for her part, was firmly in mother-hen mode, watching Jester like a hawk, and Beau wished she’d remembered earlier just how bad of a liar the goblin was, wincing to herself as Nott would not-so-subtly intervene the second anyone suggested Jester carry anything heavier than a book. Caduceus was far more neutral - since Jester’s first horrified reaction, he’d said nothing about the pregnancy. His only contribution was to serve her heaping portions of whatever food he prepared.

And Beau - Beau was just full of nervous energy, nowhere to direct it. Thankfully, the roads in the Empire were pretty uneventful - they didn’t run into any more trouble, and of course that was good, that was safer. But each morning as she rose early and put Fjord through his paces, push-ups and sit-ups and jogging laps, the pump-up scenarios she kept running in her head gradually became variations on how she’d protect Jester next time there was trouble, what she’d do. If it was a large creature, she could rely on Yasha to draw its aggression, but if another group surrounded them, should she take initiative and run in to hit them with stunning strikes, or stay close to Jester so she could conserve her ki for defensive reactions?

“You all right?” Fjord asked her once as they cooled down, exhaling as he leant into a lunge. They were almost within sight of Zadash now, probably just one more day’s travel.

“Huh? Yeah.” She switched legs, indicating for him to do the same, their stretching routine quite coordinated now. “Why?”

“You just looked very cross. Very intense.”

She laughed, blowing hair out of her eyes. “That’s just my face, man, I don’t know what to tell you. I know, I know, I still gotta work on the smiling thing, but give me a break when we’re workin’ out.”

“That’s not what I mean, it’s just… you have seemed like a happier person in these past months… this past year, really. I suppose it’s been that long. And now you… seem rather tense again.”

“Oh. Huh.” She bent down to touch her toes.

Fjord followed suit, abdomen trembling with exertion as his fingertips couldn’t quite make contact. He grunted, standing up in defeat. “I, er… I mean to say if anything’s bothering you, you can talk to me. You’re still my first mate, Beau. I’m aware that not everyone in the group knows about your family situation.”

“My what? Oh. The letter. Yeah. Nah, it’s… it’s not that. It’s not anything, really. Don’t worry about it. I’m happy! I am happy.” She smacked him on the arm. “Happier than I’ve ever been. For real. But thanks… Captain.”

Fjord looked at her sidelong, searching her face, his growing tusks pressing against his upper lip as he frowned. “If you say so.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that this chapter is quite short - there wasn't really a better place to break it. Chapter 4 is quite long to make up for it, though! Out next Wednesday.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb is acting suspicious - and a group meeting is finally had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a note this chapter has further allusions to abortion. Writing about pregnancy in a fantasy world is weeeiiird but I still wanted to make it super clear that both I and the M9 here are fully pro-choice, and this conflict only belongs to Jester - so I hope that comes across!

Libraries were one of those things Beau wouldn't admit to liking at all, but secretly rather treasured - in a world of so many myths and half-truths, the security that solid knowledge could grant. And flexing her Cobalt vestments was always satisfying, especially when Archivist Zeenoth, his wispy blond eyebrows shooting sky-high at her reappearance in Zadash, could do precisely nothing to stop her striding in like she owned the place.

So admittedly, yeah, she herself had volunteered to be Caleb's library card once again (and kinda felt she owed it to him to not demand any revelations of life-ruining trauma in exchange this time). But then, when she was actually trapped in the archives on an all-day research session, she started to wonder if it wouldn't in fact be better to burn them all down.

They'd split the Nein into three groups - Yasha and Caduceus were paying visits to the Invulnerable Vagrant and a few other long-overdue mercantile stops in the city, while Fjord and Nott aimed to variously charm/sneak their way into the Pillowed Trove once again to check on post and any other news. And while Caleb made no effort to conceal his excitement at a day spent researching (hoping to narrow down other possible Beacon locations before they took the risk of investigating Ikithon’s home), Jester was miffed not to be out exploring. But being undeniably exhausted from the weeks of riding, and still having morning sickness regularly, she couldn't reasonably argue against it.

After persuading Zeenoth to let Caleb look at - and swiftly memorise - the archive’s teleportation circle, they’d been sat quietly at work for several hours. Caleb, in his element, had busied himself with a stack of obscure volumes almost as tall as him, spanning every conceivable subject from Shearing Channel geology to minor pre-Calamity deities, with no uniting subject as far as Beau could tell. He was settled in a corner chair, cat-comfortable.

In total contrast, Jester was fiddling, distracted, and grumpy. She'd made her own stack of books, but it was fairly apparent their only uniting theme was being prime graffiti material, and right now, as the various pacing monks hovered too close by to risk getting her paints out, she was just tearing up a piece of paper from her journal into tiny strips and sighing. She rolled her shoulders and Frumpkin, who had been sat on the arm of Caleb’s chair, leapt up into her lap, his little face as inscrutable as usual.

Beau was trying valiantly to concentrate on a volume of collected letters that might mention the wards the Cerberus Assembly favoured - but every sentence so far was long, meandering, and unbelievably boring: she'd read the same miniscule paragraph four times, and taken it in none of them. The constant, arrhythmic sounds of Jester's movements didn't help. Beau sighed, allowed herself to hold the book up but look beyond it, and just watched Jester in earnest.

It didn’t take long for the tiefling to notice the eyes on her, and she gave Beau a guilty smile.

“Workin’ hard?” Beau whispered.

“I can’t concentrate! I’m _ haaangry_,” Jester replied, flattening Frumpkin’s ears as he _ mrp_ed and settled into a circle.

“I don’t think you can have pastries in here, sorry. Crumbs and shit.”

Jester shook her head impatiently. “Do you still have any pocket bacon?”

“Huh? Oh… yeah, always. It’s more like jerky now, though.” Beau fished some out, passed it under the table.

Frumpkin opened his eyes and gave an interested sniff, but Jester had scarfed the whole strip down in seconds, closing her eyes in ecstasy. “Ohhh my gosh. That is good. Mm… we should get _ fish _ on the way home. Like a huge bass or swordfish. Make sure it’s salty. You and me will share one, Frumpy. _ Mm_! I’m going to drool just thinking about it.”

Frumpkin responded with a rumbling purr as he started to make biscuits on her lap. “Ooh, that tickles! Do my shoulders next.” Surprisingly for Frumpkin, he actually obliged, jumping up onto Jester’s head and kneading her shoulderblades as she sighed in satisfaction.

Beau gave a false laugh, well aware Caleb was still in earshot. “Ah… how… weird! You’re so random, Jes!” She cleared her throat. Caleb didn’t look up from his books, however, seeming to pay no attention to either them, or, more unusually, his cat.

They managed about another hour of reading - Beau passing her letters onto Caleb in defeat, hoping he’d make more sense of them - before an obviously fed-up Jester wandered off to peruse the aisles, Frumpkin trotting to follow her. Beau didn’t miss the set of magical paints tucked in the crook of her elbow, and hid a smile.

“Better start finishing up,” she told Caleb in a low voice.

“Hm? _ Warum?” _He blinked out of his reverie.

“Just wait.”

Only a few minutes later there was a distant _ crash, _ then the sound of several pairs of running feet.

Beau jerked her head in that direction. “Ah,” said Caleb, with resignation. “I suppose we were pushing our luck at this point.”

A small orange shape hurtled towards them, Frumpkin’s fur standing on end as he leapt onto Caleb’s back, who flinched and dismissed him into sparks. Jester followed not long behind, panting and suppressing laughter. “Ummm, we should probably leave, like, now! Go go go!”

The three of them made a hasty retreat while trying to appear casual, Jester still hiding giggles in her cloak. Luckily the monks were all too busy rushing to investigate the disturbance to pay much attention. Once they were out on the steps of the Reserve, Beau exhaled into the cool evening air as Jester bent over and caught her breath.

Caleb buttoned up his coat, urging them into a shadowy side street. They’d entered after breakfast, but somehow it was dark already. Their days had become unnaturally shorter; a side effect of their leaping around the continent. Beau sighed and leaned against a wall. “So… wanna tell us what happened?”

“Sorry, you guys! I found an empty shelf in the bit with loads of super boring books about the Platinum Dragon, and the right way to honour him and stuff, so I wrote ‘DRAGONS SUCK, THE TRAVELER IS THE TITS’ in big letters… Then I drew a dead dragon, like the one Twiggy killed, and like, flies and stink lines...” Jester suppressed another helpless snort at the very thought. “Then I thought it would be pretty funny to paint a glory hole in the next shelf. Just a little hole! But I guess it must have been super old fragile wood or something ‘cause the whole thing started collapsing once the hole appeared.”

“Oh, man.” Beau shook her head ruefully, but couldn’t hide her grin as they started the walk back towards their inn for the night. “One of these days this is gonna seriously backfire on you, you know that?”

“It is very dangerous, really. You could get arrested. They take blasphemy extremely seriously in the Empire.” Caleb’s tone was solemn, but his eyes hid a twinkle of amusement.

It wasn’t lost on Jester, who turned to give him a sly look and stuck her tongue out as they walked. “But you know, this is _ my _religious practi-oh!”

Beau reached out to stop her a second too late - with a startled squeak, Jester had walked head-first straight into a lamp post. But rather than slam into it, she seemed to spring lightly off the empty air around it - a strange, near-invisible curved shimmer in the space, something about it familiar, undeniably arcane.

“Wh- Are you okay? What just happened?” Beau shifted into a defensive stance, looking warily around.

“I don’t… it’s like I just went... _ bounce_! Wait…” Jester narrowed her eyes at Caleb, who was all of a sudden looking furtive, but his arm was out of his robes. “Caleb… wasn’t that your shield spell? Did you just cast that?”

“Ähm… _ja, _I suppose. It was, er, just on instinct.” He was a shade too innocent, walking nonchalantly onwards. “I still have spells for the day, and there you go, you did not hurt yourself.”

“Wow… Well, thank you, Caleb! That’s... very thoughtful of you.”

Jester and Beau met each other’s eyes as their wizard strode onwards ahead of them, splashing through puddles and determinedly avoiding their gaze.

*

“_Psst_. Wake up, Nott.”

“Whuh-” The goblin blinked awake then rocketed to her feet, drawing her pocket dagger and brandishing it in Beau’s face. “It wasn’t me, you can’t prove it! Search my bag, you won’t find a thing! Ahhh!”

“Shut up, shut _ up_!” Beau hissed. “Yasha’s asleep!”

Nott relaxed her stance slightly as she took in the scene in their still-dark tavern room, Jester and Beau crouched on either side of her bedroll on the moonlit floor. “What is this, what’s going on?” she asked warily.

“Nott, we need to talk to you. Please be honest, okay?” Jester said gently.

“Are - are you going to do a truth spell on me?”

“Do we need to?” Beau asked, arms folded. “And wait, while we’re at it, _ have _you stolen our shit?”

“Hold on, hold on. This is all wrong!” Nott shook her head and sat down again. “Don’t start doing this good-cop-bad-cop thing, that’s our gig!” she told Jester accusingly. “Just because Beau’s your baby daddy doesn’t mean you can join forces against the lead detective!”

“Um, since when are you the lead detective?” Jester complained.

“We’re missing the -” Beau shook her head. “Listen, Nott, just be honest for five fucking seconds. Did you tell Caleb?”

“Tell Caleb what?” Far too innocent.

“You know damn well what! C’mon, you can’t lie for shit.”

“Yeah, he was being all weird with me today. He cast a spell to protect me and then pretended that he didn’t! Like, _ ahhh, errr, I, errr, guess it was instinctual, ja_?” Jester gesticulated, adopting an obscure, guttural take on Caleb’s accent. “And Frumpkin has been acting strange for days. Like, he’s my _ best _friend now. He keeps jumping on me and purring. And okay, it’s super cute and I love it, but I know Frumpkin doesn’t really do things unless Caleb tells him to. Something is definitely up!”

Nott’s shoulders slumped. “Ugh, fine, fine, I’m sorry! Look, it’s only because Caleb is so clever - he came to me and asked if I knew what was up with you, he could tell I was hiding something. And obviously he’s been worried about you, Jester… as we all were for a bit. But he can’t just ask you outright because he’s _ such _a sensitive young man and you know conversations can be difficult for him.”

She wrung her hands. “And it’s not like I just spilled, okay, I made up a lie, but it was a really bad one and he started assuming all sorts of things, so I just - I had to just clear things up! I swore him to secrecy too, of course, but evidently he can’t help being caring. I’m _ sorry_, Jester, but - well, everyone will have to know fairly soon, unless, er…” She shrugged. “Unless.”

“I haven’t made my mind up about that yet,” said Jester slowly, looking upset. “But I… I understand why. It’s okay. Ugh, it’s just… it’s stupid now. Literally everyone except for Yasha and Fjord knows I am pregnant, like… should I just tell them?”

“Everyone except Fjord,” said Yasha quietly.

Three sets of eyes turned to stare at her. She was sitting up in her bed, blanket drawn high, avalanche of matted hair framing her moon-pale face. “I wasn’t actually asleep yet,” she added. “But you were being very loud anyway.”

She smiled. Beau looked between Jester and Nott, waiting for one of them to say something.

“I understand why you didn’t tell me,” Yasha continued mildly, when nobody did. “It’s none of my business.”

“Oh, Yasha - I wanted to, I really did! I hate keeping secrets!” Jester burst out plaintively. “It’s just that I don’t know how to feel yet and I don’t know what I’m doing, and it’s so hard to explain how it happened… I didn’t want you all worried.”

“Worried?” Yasha looked puzzled. “No, um, I’m glad that you two are together, of course I am. We… never had the chance to talk about children. Ah, Zuala and I, that is. I always thought we’d have more time for that, you know?”

“Oh...”

“That’s…”

“We’re not together,” Beau rushed firmly, pushing past the awkwardness, not looking at Jester. “It was a one... well, a short-term thing.” She was surprised Yasha didn’t ask the obvious anatomical question, but it was a reminder that the aasimar could be surprisingly worldly in the ways that mattered.

“I’m so sorry, Yasha.” Jester went to sit on her bed and take her hand, stroking it gently. “Do you still want to have a baby one day?”

“Not without her.”

The answer was quiet but decisive. Yasha’s too-gentle voice hung heavy, like clouds before rain.

The moment sobered them all. They sat quietly thinking.

Jester put her chin in her hands. “I hadn’t thought about it like that, but… it _ could _be my only shot, couldn’t it? We don’t know what will happen.”

“That shouldn’t be the reason you do it,” said Nott suddenly. “Being a parent is really hard work; it changes your life completely. And if you don’t want a child now, then you shouldn’t feel obligated.”

“But you had Luc when you were only twenty, didn’t you, Nott?”

She went red, her voice a little softer. “Well… we were terribly in love. It wasn’t even a question, I knew that I wanted to have a family with Yeza. We had both wanted it for a long time by that point. I mean... it did happen a little earlier than we perhaps intended, but we were so happy.”

“Oh, I see.” Jester looked all the more conflicted. Beau felt embarrassed, exposed somehow, by all that went unsaid there. She knew Nott didn’t mean it in a judgy way. But the implications… _ We’re not sure. We’re not a couple in love. We’re not going to get married. We’re not secure in the knowledge that we’ll be together forever, a family forever. _

Even though she couldn’t picture any future without the Mighty Nein, any circumstance of parting with Jester that wouldn’t leave her utterly miserable. What _ was _their group? How long would it stay like that?

Nott had a family to go back to, a clear goal in mind for how to make that happen. And Caduceus, she supposed, was looking for his family too. The rest of them… what were they going to be? Ten years, fifty years from now? She just never thought about it. There was nowhere, nobody for Beau to fall back on. She supposed the same went for Caleb, Yasha, probably Fjord too - but would necessity still tie their fates together? And Jester -

“Let’s talk to everyone tomorrow,” Jester said. “We… we have to make a decision about the Beacon, of course, but… but when we can... I need to go home, I think. I need to see my mama.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Beau neutrally.

“We’re all here for you, you know, no matter what,” Nott told Jester, earnest and plaintive, and Yasha nodded. There was a small, tight pain in Beau’s chest, a thin blade piercing her, as she put a hand on Jester’s cool shoulder, rubbed it with her thumb. Not sure why, except to just - touch her. Feel her friend near to her, know that right now they had each other.

*

“So let me get this absolutely straight. Or - or - or clear, as it were.” Fjord’s posture was so rigid he would have toppled over if Beau poked him. “You’re saying that _ Beauregard _has - has physically, has, er, traditionally... inseminated you.”

“Could you not use _ that _fucking word?” pleaded Beau from between her fingers, not looking at anyone. “But - yeah, that’s what we’re saying.”

“I’m just trying to get my head around the facts,” Fjord said now, his voice several octaves higher than usual. “And that this definitely isn’t a joke.”

They’d all gathered in the boys’ room for relative privacy, and Fjord had been on edge from the start, being the only one without the slightest hint of what was to come. Jester - helped, unasked for, by Nott - had done most of the talking, but in her monologuing way that just got more obfuscating the longer you let her go on for, and Beau was starting to wish she’d just done it herself, mortifying as the thought was.

Jester, sat on her knees on the bed, sighed. “This would be a really bad joke, Fjord. But… we still don’t really know the facts, that is the problem! I mean, I am _ pretty _sure - well, Caleb, do you know? Can this happen?”

He looked pensive. “There are certainly a great deal of stories about people becoming pregnant through magical means. But this is usually folklore and not well-documented, and, er, additionally, it is usually some sort of god, or sometimes a fey creature, that is responsible. Though - I must add that from my own knowledge, in...”

Caleb had been as factual in tone as he usually was when flipping through the pages of his encyclopaedic mind, but now his forehead wrinkled and he took on the faltering harshness that accompanied his own memories. “In the Academy there was obviously... a lot of canoodling, as you might imagine from a lot of teenagers in an enclosed space. I heard rumours about different ways to use spells in less orthodox ways to, er, spice up the activity, as it were. I am sure that some of it was fictitious, but mages do have a proclivity for experimentation. I am certain you are not the first to do this thing.

“Ah! and now that I think of it,” he started, another thought overtaking faster than his speech could keep up. “In my recent studies into transmutation I have read anecdotally about those who attempt to change their physical form permanently, er, as we are hoping to achieve for my little friend. And because usually this is somebody not at ease with how their gender is perceived - well, the book did not go into detail, I must find it; that could certainly be relevant. But this text was in Uthodurn… Oh, but perhaps if I could get into that smut shop here in Zadash again!” He brightened at the end. “In any case, the implications of such a thing would be quite immense, in terms of our understanding of the, the _ profundity _of transmutational magic upon the actual cells of the body.”

“Wow,” said Caduceus, beaming. “That’s great.”

“Did you understand that?” Fjord muttered to him.

“No,” he admitted plainly. “But isn’t magic interesting! I mean, just, wow.”

“That’s right - Caduceus, you can do your thing where you talk to the Wildmother, right?” Beau recalled. “And get, like, yes or no answers? That’s what we need. ‘Cause no offence to the Traveler, but dude seemed a little shifty on the details.”

Predictably, Jester jumped on the defensive, rounding on her. “Hey! This is not his speciality! He is not going to be perving up in his clerics’ wombs and stuff, but he knows everything else important, okay? He is super duper knowledgeable!”

“I mean, I can ask the Wildmother, but is that really necessary? Jester’s certainly pregnant, and there’s only one way it could have happened. What else do you need?” Caduceus replied, scratching his head.

“I am certainly? Like one-hundred-percent, absolutely, you are totally sure?” Jester rocked back and forth.

“...May I?” He indicated her abdomen.

“Oh, um, go ahead!”

In a display that was unavoidably strange to witness, but performed with the utmost gravity and gentleness, Caduceus knelt down before Jester like he was making an offering to an idol, and pressed his fuzzy ear against her stomach. Closing his eyes, it appeared as though he was simply resting his large head in her lap. Jester laughed awkwardly, then remembered herself and tried to stay still, combing her fingers through his curtain of white-pink hair.

The rest exchanged weirded-out looks in silence. Beau became all at once aware of her breathing, the muffled chatter of the tavern below them coming up through the floorboards suddenly becoming so much louder.

It felt as if a gentle breeze passed through the room, though the window was shut. Beau smelled something for a fraction of a second - like fresh grass after rainfall.

Caduceus split into a smile, eyes still closed, then sat up. “That’s a heartbeat,” he confirmed.

“Oh!” Jester’s hands rested there unconsciously. She chuckled, looking somewhat dazed. “Ooh, my tummy is nice and warm now… Huh. A little heartbeat. Wow!”

Nott hid a grin behind her hands. Yasha looked amazed. Caleb looked conflicted. Fjord looked overwhelmed.

Beau didn’t know what she felt. She swallowed, mustered up the courage to ask if she could listen too. Best way for it to seem real.

“Can - can I try listening? Is that all right?” asked Fjord. Beau set her mouth.

“Oh, um… sure!” Jester looked startled.

With a great deal more more uncomfortable clearing of his throat, Fjord copied Caduceus’s motions and set his ear against Jester’s abdomen. The room became still again as everyone allowed another moment of quiet. Bereft of long hair to play with this time, Jester looked around, flashed Beau an awkward grin.

“...I don’t hear anything,” he finally said, drawing up, trying to hide his disappointment. “Well, except your stomach. Does it always grumble that much?”

“Isn’t that normal?” Jester patted her stomach again, this time more of a drum-slap. “It’s got lots of yummy food inside!”

“Hey, it’s all right. Listening is like any skill, it takes a lot of practice,” Caduceus said to Fjord kindly, patting him on the shoulder.

“And Caduceus’s ears are much bigger than yours, Fjord,” pointed out Nott.

“Feels kinda odd,” Beau confessed after a moment of silence, not liking to contemplate any longer the strange moment of quasi-intimacy between Fjord and Jester. “Knowing it has a little heart already. Like, obviously that’s how this shit works. But it’s just crazy that it’s growing... so fast.”

“Yeah…” Jester nodded. “It’s weird, like, it’s an alive thing, growing inside of me! That’s already like… _ so _much responsibility.”

“I am pretty sure at this point you could count it as a parasite,” said Caleb.

Caduceus nodded. “Well, sure, it’s alive, but there’s lots of other life inside all of us, and on us, and that doesn’t make us beholden to it.” He looked around. “Why, we’ve all got plenty of little lives feeding off our eyelashes right now. And our hair, and our skin. Probably in our intestines. It’s no more a creature than many of those, at this stage. I mean, look at Sprinkle; he’s dependent on you, but you don’t make your decisions around his needs.”

Jester paused from grimacing and uneasily touching her eyelashes, as they all had begun to do, to fish around behind her hair and pull out the bedraggled weasel from the hood of her cloak. Gods, Beau always forgot he was somehow there.

Sprinkle stared at Jester limply as she held him up and regarded him. “I mean, I do _ some _of the time. Think about his needs,” she protested feebly. Another uncomfortable pause passed as Jester petted Sprinkle rather too briskly, who chittered in response.

Beau became aware Fjord was looking at her - looking at her in a way she’d never seen him do before. A certain halting unfamiliarity, rather than the easy trust long-established in their friendship.

“So we rather skipped over this part, but... you two,” he said eventually, “This is a thing now?”

Beau sighed, stretched, explained for what already felt like the hundredth time, “No, it was just a short-term thing, like, as friends…”

“Right, friends.” He still looked uncomfortable. “It’s just not typically a thing I do with my... friends.”

“It’s actually not really your business, okay, Fjord?” Jester said in a rush, stuffing Sprinkle back into her shirt. “Don’t you think we are embarrassed enough having to tell everyone? Beau did me a favour, that’s it!”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve had to do this much defending of casual sex since I left my fuckin’ parents, jeez,” Beau snapped, folding her arms to push back the furious rush of embarrassment. “Back the fuck out of it.”

“Okay, I - sorry.” He raised his hands apologetically. “I just thought… well, anyway.”

“Er. Right, okay, what is our next move?” Caleb, rather red in the face, unsubtly changed topic, looking at Jester. “You are calling the shots now.”

“Ugh.” She unfolded her legs and kicked them off the bed absently, thinking. “Well, the whole reason I wanted to tell you all was because I guess I need to go to Nicodranas, and talk to my mama so I can decide if I’m gonna actually have a stupid baby or not. But... we were just there not long ago, and we are on a mission now, and we think we know where the Beacon actually_ is _so we should get it, ‘cause we owe Essek kinda big!”

It was true that their excursion to the Archives had only further confirmed their suspicions about the archmage’s country home as hiding place, so they no longer had the excuse of not knowing what to do next hindering their progress. Still, Beau had to object. “Hang on. Listen, if the Beacon is in Ikithon’s tower, then it’s been sat there for however many months or years, it’ll sit a little longer. We still don’t know for sure. And even if it is, we’d be rushing into a dangerous situation with you knocked up. We can do this first, it makes sense.”

“I am inclined to agree,” said Caleb. “For one thing, I still do not feel comfortable with our party potentially facing Ikithon at our current strength. We need a _ foolproof _plan before we go in. And a backup plan. Not one of our terrible five-minute plans that instantly goes to shit. More time is still needed, more work. Beauregard found a promising hint about the wards on the tower, but it was merely a hint. I actually have half a mind to consult Yussa, if he will be amenable. This will not hinder us. And anyway, er…” The intensity in his voice petered out to awkward sincerity. “...You take priority, of course. Over all of this.”

Yasha nodded, speaking for the first time in a while. “You came with me to the King’s Cage, and we all nearly died. It was not exactly on our path. I think we can spare time to see your _ mother_.”

Jester flushed, pleased. “Well, just a little visit. I guess we do have the teleportation circle now.”

“As much time as you need, Jes,” Fjord squeezed her shoulder. “We’re here for you.”

A moment passed between each one of them. Beau thought about reaching for her hand, but Jester was already shuffling in her seat and beginning to cast _ Sending_, as usual without any prior planning. Fjord sighed, let go of her shoulder and resignedly held up his fingers.

“Heyyyyyy Essek! So! Just so you know… we are going to Nicodranas. Don’t worry! We have a great lead… and… we’re making… plans. ...What’s up?”

Her brow furrowed in parody as she repeated Essek’s mental reply in a voice far more gruff than he actually was. _ “‘...Hello, Jester. Thank you for informing me. ...Glad to hear you have a lead. I look forward to further news. ...I am reading a book.” _ She snickered. “That pause was too long. He was _ definitely _pooping.”

“Okay, that is good to know, and he did not seem cross with us?” Caleb pressed.

“No, he was totally fine! Like, maybe he probably was reminding us that we’re on a mission and we should tell him some good news eventually. But it’s not like he said ‘_Aaaargh you are disobeying the Queen, she is going to come and fuck you up’_, so I think it’s like, cool, you guys!”

“All right then.” Caleb dug in his bag and reached for his arcane chalk. “No time like the present?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments/kudos so far :) Next chapter next Wednesday!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A family reunion in Nicodranas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me when I started writing this chapter: eh, I'm sure the current happy fun ball arc won't take long, and won't contain much of any plot significance  
me now: ...welp 
> 
> So I guess we're becoming more canon divergent here, because I'm keeping my background Plot Stuff pretty simple!

Yussa was not in the most hospitable of moods, pointedly showing the party the door after another hasty post-arrival _ Sending _ to forewarn him - a tactic he plainly saw through. Caduceus, at least, was sincerely apologetic. Caleb clearly itched to pick the other wizard’s brains about their current mission, but he dismissed them rapidly, stating that he was deep in the middle of study and didn’t want to lose his concentration. Beau caught a glimpse of the Happy Fun Ball out on his desk as he hurried them through the tower, surrounded by papers and sketches. She briefly wondered just what he was doing with it, then decided she didn’t care.

What had been midday in Zadash was near-sunset on the Menagerie Coast. The sky outside of the tower was a breathtaking rose-pink, the sun low over the glittering sea as they all breathed in the warm, salt-scented air.

“Ah… I know we were just here, but I already feel more relaxed,” Nott said happily. “In the Empire it just feels like everyone’s out to get you!”

“Well, they are out to get _ you_,” Beau couldn’t help but point out.

“Not helpful, Beau,” Fjord murmured out of the corner of his mouth, as Nott’s expression soured and she quickly cast _ Disguise Self, _becoming Veth.

“It is fun seeing the world… but sometimes, it would be nice if we could just stay in Nicodranas, wouldn’t it?” said Jester wistfully, as she followed Nott’s cue, turning herself into a red-haired, human version of herself with sallow skin.

Beau didn’t reply, not sure how serious Jester was being. _ Would _she want to stay here with her mother? It would be reasonable… more than reasonable. And now she had higher-level spells, it would be possible, too - easy to disguise herself most of the time. Jester’s whole reason for leaving her home had quietly dissolved. Selfishly, Beau just didn’t want to remind her of that yet.

“Look, Caleb, I made us twins again!” Jester was already distracted, holding her newly copper hair up to Caleb’s own. 

“Ah, that you did.” 

“I’m glad we’re back, to be honest. I want to check Luc’s really all right with that dog of yours. It’s a lot of responsibility for a little boy,” Nott fretted. “And Nugget was not exactly well-trained. I worry he’s going to knock him over.” 

“But you’re happy for him to have a crossbow?” Fjord questioned. 

“Every child deserves a crossbow, Fjord,” Nott snapped. “Any idiot could use one!” 

“I got my first sword when I was five,” said Yasha. It was unclear whether this was an endorsement. 

Fjord raised his hands in defeat as they began walking through the Open Quay, cutting what had become a familiar path through the colourful streets. 

Though a few patrolling Zolezzo gave the party passing curious glances, the city overall had so much more of a trusting, open atmosphere than either of the war-torn countries they’d put their roots down in. Even as dusk fell, children’s laughter still rang from the beach. Couples, hand in hand, stopped by the low city walls to admire the striking sunset over the ocean. A smiling older woman, carrying a potted plant, even stopped to ask if they needed directions. As Caduceus naturally struck up a conversation with the stranger, Beau fell deep into thoughts, looking out at the sun-tinged sea.

The grass, so they said, was always greener. It was easy to romanticise a life somewhere you’d never experienced as your day-to-day, with all its trivialities and chores. And of course they’d learned that just like every city, Nicodranas had its share of ugly secrets. Still… on evenings like this it was difficult to remember _ why _ they didn’t just stop. 

They’d made it so that there was a life here for Nott’s family, at least temporarily, after all. They had coin in their pockets, they had favours in high places, they had… whatever their relationship with Yussa was, the freedom of travel it afforded. And Marion, who was shockingly generous - and wealthy enough that Beau didn’t feel guilty accepting that generosity. Couldn’t they find a quiet corner for themselves?

They wouldn’t need a big place, but she wouldn’t mind a balcony… and a sea view. She would get up early and run on the beach - with Nugget dancing around her, the silly dog was technically half-hers too - before anyone else got there, while the sun came up. Bare feet making the first mark on the cool damp sand as she worked up a sweat, maybe meditated a little, followed by a brisk dip in the sea. Then a lazy walk through town, her hair drying in the sun - buy breakfast from the bakery, swirls of warm golden pastry, poking her head in at Yeza and Nott as they opened up their shop for the morning.

She’d come home and it would _ feel _like home. Let the bakery smell - cinnamon, she supposed - drift up the stairs to Jester, who’d still be dead to the world, having a long lie-in. Face in the pillow in the middle of a big canopy bed, sheets kicked everywhere, she’d start talking about her dream with her eyes still closed. Beau would lean in, hiding her laughter, surprise her by kissing her ear. Jester would shriek and pull her into bed, tickling her, and-

And. And. And Professor Fucking Thaddeus might as well land on her shoulder too, mightn’t he, and sing a little tune while she swept the floor. In this fucking world of fantasy. 

Beau shook her head hard, face scrunching up with fury and humiliation. Was she stupid? Why would she even let herself go that far in her thoughts, knowing how much it hurt to come back to reality? A reality where Molly had fucking _ died _less than a year ago, senselessly, for no reason other than the unspeakable cruelty in the world all around them. A reality where Beau didn’t see any real way out of the political mess they’d driven themselves into, all the different factions the Nein were beholden to, all the plates to spin. Where honestly, day by day, it felt like they were just pushing their luck not getting thrown in a cell - or dragged up on an executioner's block.

Let alone the rest of it. Let alone imagining some kind of a life with Jester. As if, never mind the rest, Jester would really want her - mundane, human, female Beau. Why even picture that? Why let it go that far? She was so _ fucking _ stupid! She didn’t do this. She never let herself feel like this, not since Tori. And with your straight best friend, who’d only _ fucking _fuck you when you weren’t even yourself… Clever, Beau. Real fucking clever. 

“Beau? Is everything okay?”

She started to her senses and realised the group were all ready to move forward, looking at her expectantly. Jester’s voice was gentle, and it was only as Beau gruffly replied “Yeah, fine,” that she realised her eyes were prickling with angry tears. 

As the others walked forward, Jester slowed to the back to walk beside Beau. “Are you upset?” she asked softly. 

“No, I’m just... I just got to thinking. About how unfair everything is. That we can’t just… settle down somewhere and have things be simple.” 

“Hmm. But would you really be happy like that, Beau?” Jester mused. “You’re the sort of person who always needs some adrenaline. I think you would get restless. I lived very peacefully here for a long time, after all, and eventually got myself into trouble.” 

She smiled. She’d forgotten how canny Jester’s insight could be. “I guess you’re right,” she admitted. “I kinda did the same… I mean, not that I was happy before, but I still ruined my own life just ‘cause I needed to rebel. Just... had a little sentimental moment. Maybe your hormones are catching.” 

Jester laughed. Their hands bumped against each other as they walked in silence for a moment. The street lamps were beginning to glow as they approached the Opal Archways district. 

“...How are you feeling?” Beau ventured. 

“I’m - I’m really nervous, actually. My heart is pounding, I... It’s strange. I’ve never been anxious to talk to my mama about anything. I guess I don’t know how she’s going to react.” 

“I think she’ll be great,” said Beau sincerely. “Like, I understand, but she’s been in the same boat, hasn’t she? When she had you.”

“Well, maybe. But she was like, in _ love _with Babenon. And thought they were going to get married and stuff.” 

“Oh… yeah.” 

They lapsed into silence again.

The streets had grown darker and cooler by the time the periwinkle blue stone of the Lavish Chateau loomed above them, soft colourful light emanating from the high stained-glass windows, with chatter and a faint jazzy tune spilling out of the open doorway. The two Zolezzo posted at the door gave the party searching looks. “We’re fully booked for rooms, I’m afraid, unless you have a reservation,” one called out as Fjord approached. 

He held his hands up peaceably. “We’re here to see the Ruby.” 

The guard snorted. “The Ruby of the Sea does not take _ walk-ins_, I suggest you enquire about a booking at-”

Jester skipped to the front, ignoring the man and waving frantically at Tyral, the doorman stood within at the desk, who had become familiar now with their comings and goings. “Hellooo! Tyral, it’s J- it’s me! Can we come in?” 

The young human took in the features of her face, nodding as he recognised the other party members. He dismissed the two Zolezzo with a wave and strode forward. “Oh, back so soon! We weren’t expecting you - come in, come in, don’t worry. You’re always welcome.” 

They were led through the foyer and upstairs past the main entertainment hall, where the brass band on stage had come to the end of their song - tables of well-dressed men were clapping and cheering, staff smoothly whisking away empty glasses and replacing them. 

“Your mother has a client tonight,” Tyral told Jester in a low voice, “But he has yet to arrive.” He nodded and indicated for them to ascend to the third floor. The crowd in the hall cheered anew as the band struck up another tune, so Beau saw rather than heard Jester suck in a nervous breath, hands tensing by her sides.

“Jester,” said Blude warmly as they came upstairs, stepping forward from his position by Marion’s chamber to greet them with an inclination of his massive head. “And the Mighty Nein. Back already.” 

“Hi, Blude!” Jester ran up to embrace him. “I know it’s soon. I, um, I was hoping to see my mama… I should have messaged her beforehand, but here we are!” She spread her hands and laughed nervously. 

“She’ll be delighted.” Blude nodded and turned back to knock on Marion’s door. 

Nadia’s head poked out, looking harried. “We need ten more minutes at minimum, tell him - Oh!” She thrust the door fully open at once. “Miss Jester - come in, come in.” 

“_ Jester_?” cried the bell-like voice of the Ruby of the Sea as they were ushered into the chamber, where Marion, who was sat at her vanity, had spun around in disbelief. “What a lovely surprise, my darling!”

She wore a stunning crystalline silver gown that clung to her form, leaving little to the imagination, so that Fjord coughed and averted his gaze. Her dark hair was immaculately curled and cascading down her back, shining rings adorned her fingers and horns, a ruby-studded choker gleamed at her neck. The only detail not polished was her makeup - one eye was smokily outlined, the other still in progress, and her lips unpainted. Beau tried very hard to tear her eyes away from Marion’s plunging neckline, looking firmly at the paintings on the wall instead. 

“Hi Mama! I just dropped in to see you,” Jester exclaimed cheerily. But there was a note of falsehood in her voice, and she hesitated by the doorway.

Marion detected the tension immediately, halting as she stood up. “What is it? What’s going on?” She looked searchingly between each of them. 

Nobody spoke. Jester’s chin began to wobble. 

The Ruby of the Sea rushed forward, knocking a makeup brush off her desk, and bundled Jester into her arms just as her face began to crumple with tears and she dropped her human guise. 

“Oh, my sapphire. Oh, my little girl… tell Mama what happened,” Marion murmured urgently, kissing Jester’s hair. “Whatever it is, we will face it.” 

Beau exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Fjord.

“I… I think I messed up, Mama,” Jester hiccuped, face buried in Marion’s crimson shoulder. “You taught me to be smart, and I was stupid, and I don’t know what to do. You might be mad.” 

Marion pulled away from her, holding her by the shoulders and looking her in the eye, a gentle smile on her unnervingly beautiful features. “Jester, I am your mother. I will _ always _be on your side, no matter what comes. That’s my job. You can tell me.” 

Beau looked at the floor. Caleb looked intensely pained. 

“We’ll leave you to it,” Caduceus said smoothly. “I’m sure Blude can help us track down Yeza, we’re all due a catch-up.” 

Marion nodded, distracted, as she sat a sniffling Jester down on her expansive bed, then spoke to Nadia in a rapid, businesslike tone: “Cancel tonight. Whatever excuse satisfies, with my apologies, and a full refund.” 

The maid nodded smoothly, went to exit, and with a sharp jerk of her head, indicated for the rest of them to do the same. 

*

Somehow she was ravenous. The supper provided by the kind kitchen staff, despite obviously being leftovers, was one of the most delicious meals Beau had experienced in weeks; a succulent broiled hog roast, coated in wine-rich sauce, and a spiced squash alternative for Caduceus. The private suite allocated for Yeza, Luc and Edith was suddenly a great deal more cramped with an extra six guests, their packs and weapons. But it felt cosy; always heartwarming to see Nott reunited briefly with her loved ones. 

The way Luc had dropped his toy when they opened the door, run to her and clung to her legs as if for dear life; Nott picking the tiny boy up and squeezing him, smelling his hair. Yeza waited his turn to embrace his wife, unable to conceal his smile, understanding that the need to hold her child came before he did. 

It was foreign, and yet stirred something in Beau - a deeply buried memory of being so small, so dependent on her mother. Gods, she’d been made to grow out of _ that _quickly enough. It was behind a curtain that she rarely examined now, like everything to do with her parents.

Vague explanations were hastily made - Yeza was polite enough not to press for details once he sensed it was something delicate. They’d settled into a lazy slump as they digested their meals; Caduceus was either asleep or meditating on the floor, with Nugget curled up next to him. Yasha was polishing her sword, Nott was absorbed deep in a catch-up conversation with Yeza, and Beau had ended up squashed between Fjord and Caleb on the bed, for lack of any more chairs. 

“Sweetheart, no, that’s not for touching!” came Nott’s shrill voice, cutting across the quiet conversations - Luc looked up guiltily from where he was sitting on the floor, stealthily reaching towards the shining end of the Magician’s Judge as Yasha ran a whetstone across it. Yasha looked taken aback, as if this was news to her too. 

“Sorry, we’re still working on the grabbing thing,” Yeza said quietly.

“No, no - it’s my fault, he should be in bed now, we’ve kept him up,” Nott reassured, with some guilt. “I’m not used to being on a parenting schedule. You’re doing a wonderful job.” She kissed Yeza on the nose, who turned pink.

Beau looked back at Luc, who lay on his belly on the rug and began to pick lint out of it, pouting. She felt a pang of empathy, recalling many evenings of childhood spent on floors, below tables - listening to boring adult conversations and not allowed to have any fun. How mystifying it was that your parents could sit for hours in the same spot, just _ talking _about serious topics that made them frown. 

“Hey, Luc,” she said abruptly. He looked up at her warily, as did the rest of the room. “You still got that crossbow?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Wanna see something dope?"

Luc nodded slowly.

“Cool, go get it.”

Fjord raised his eyebrows. “What are you doing?” he muttered. 

Luc went into his small chamber, fetched the crossbow out from under his bed and carried it with reverent care, looking up at Beau expectantly. She stood up and clapped her hands. “All right. Shoot me with it.” 

“Wh-what?” Yeza spluttered. 

Nott shushed him, grinning. “Oh, no, don’t worry, babe, this is cool, just watch.” 

“Really?” asked Luc, staring at Beau. “I’m not s’posed to point it at people…” 

Beau spread her arms. “C’mon, I’m telling you to. Shoot me!”

“O-okay…” Looking at her disbelievingly, waiting for the trick, he loaded up a bolt with surprising dexterity, gave a final confirming nod, and pulled the spring back, squinting and aiming it up at her face - well, damn, he sure took her at her word. 

Beau inhaled, sharpening her senses to their absolute quick, blurring the focus in her mind to nothing but muscular instincts. 

_ Crack _\- release - time slowed - and Beau’s arm had jerked up without conscious thought, her fist snapping shut around the projectile in midair like a vice. 

Her palm burned a little, but as her eyes slid back into focus, she grinned at the unabashed awe on Luc’s face, his mouth a little ‘o’. She spun the crossbow bolt in her fingers, flexing her arms. “Easy peasy. Cool, right?” 

“Can you teach _ me_?” he yelped, shyness all gone.

“Please don’t,” said Yeza weakly. 

*

“Sorry ‘bout earlier.” Beau sidled over to Yeza. After Luc had finally calmed down again, Nott had gone to tuck him into bed and tell him a goodnight story - a heavily pared down version of mommy’s latest adventures, it sounded like. “I probably should’ve asked you if that was cool first. Just figured the little squirt wanted some entertainment.”

Yeza laughed awkwardly. “Oh, no, I think you made his week. He loves that thing. I do worry, but with the life Veth has now, I can’t rightly keep him from wanting to follow in her footsteps. It’s just… he’s already been through a lot, for his age. I don’t know how it’s going to, uh, manifest itself, so I try not to encourage violence.” 

Oops. “Is he... happy here?” Beau asked. “And you? I know we sorta just ferried you off. It’s gotta be weird. But hopefully you can settle down now.”

“Yes, it’s…” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “It is strange, I can’t lie. But considering where I was before, in a Crick prison - ah, sorry, I shouldn’t say that. Xhorhassian. Not knowing if my son was safe, or that my wife was even alive. Whereas Nicodranas is beautiful, it’s peaceful… Edith can still help me, and Marion has been unbelievably good to us. It’s not where I ever thought I’d be, but I’m grateful. I’ve been talking to the local school, it should be possible to get him a place. Good to have some friends his own age. Then I could get part-time work, and make a start towards paying some rent.” 

He sighed. “The hardest part is… is Veth not being here, of course. Luc doesn’t really understand, and the older he gets the more questions he’ll have. But I know, of course - I know why she feels she can’t. I mean… I wouldn’t care, I don’t give a damn what she looks like, if you’ll pardon the strong language. But she needs to feel like herself, and I can’t deny her that. The place she now has with you all… I can tell it’s something special, anyone could. The bond your group has. But, selfishly, I’m still waiting for her to say this time she doesn’t have to leave.” He smiled, his bushy eyebrows creasing with weariness.

Beau nodded. “That makes sense. Like, for what it’s worth… sure, we’ve seen some crazy shit, and I think Nott - Veth, sorry - has been able to discover a new side of herself… but I can tell she’s always happiest when she sees you. We all have different lives, don’t we?” She chuckled. “Her more literally than most. Some parts might be hard to give up, but really there’s no question what she’d choose. When she’s with you two, she’s home.”

He didn’t speak, and she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing - but behind the thick glasses Yeza’s eyes were damp. 

He coughed. “Thanks. Thank you. I’m just gonna…” He indicated vaguely and slipped into Luc’s bedroom to join Nott.

She sat a moment looking at that closed door, listening to the hushed voices of the two parents within, until she felt a gaze on her and turned to see Caleb, still seated back on the bed, looking her way. 

“Well, Beauregard, I think you have gained two new fans this evening,” he said, eyes smiling.

She snorted. “If you say so. Hey, Caleb-” 

The suite door creaked open, and they both turned to see the statuesque figure of Marion Lavorre framed in the doorway. Clad in a pink nightrobe, her face, now bare, was completely unreadable. She examined each member of the Mighty Nein, and Beau wondered if they all felt as much like guilty schoolchildren as she did.

Finally, Marion settled her gaze on Fjord. “Could I have a word with you, please?” Her voice was gentle, but her eyes could have cut steel.

Fjord clattered to his feet, bewildered. “O-of course.” He followed her out, looking behind for a moment to meet Beau’s eyes with obvious confusion.

The door shut. Beau, Caleb, Yasha and Caduceus - now roused, perhaps by the tension in the air - all looked at each other.

“Do you think she thinks…?” asked Caleb slowly.

Caduceus nodded. “I’d wager.” 

“Oh, shit,” realised Beau.

Their suspicions were confirmed only a few minutes later as the door opened again - Fjord hastened back inside the room, plainly mortified, and Marion resumed her position of authority, arms crossed - with the hue of her skin and her perfectly controlled face, it was difficult to tell if she was embarrassed as well. 

She gave a toss of her hair. “Ahem. Pardon me, I had thought… Well.” Her blazing red eyes now fixed onto Beau. “Beauregard_. _ If _ you _would come with me.” 

“Right. ‘Course.” Beau stood up. Fjord gave her an apologetic look as she followed Marion into the corridor, as if he’d just snitched on her. 

They walked without a word until they reached an empty chamber, anxiety pulsing through Beau, down to her palms. Marion stiffly indicated for Beau to enter, then closed the door and turned the key. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and Beau was never seen again. Lol jk. By the way I keep forgetting to add this but I'm aximili on tumblr, you can witness me real-time screaming about CR there :0


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau receives an unconventional shovel talk, and Jester makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which the author makes up some Marion backstory that will probably get disproven at some point...
> 
> Chapter-specific content warnings (light spoilers): The opening conversation got a little heavier than even I was expecting tbh, and includes some references to childbirth trauma. You also may want to skim/skip the end of the first section if you find Beau's parental issues to be triggering/upsetting.

The chamber Marion had now locked them inside was small and modest by the Chateau’s standards, with only a single chair by the mirror by way of seating - aside from the generous bed, of course. As a result, Beau felt compelled to hover uncomfortably in the middle of the room, not sure where to look, how to carry herself, what to do with her hands. 

Marion turned to face Beau, taking a controlled breath before speaking. “I am sure you can guess what I want to talk about.”

“Yes. Uh, yes, ma’am.” Argh, was that too much? Did it sound sarcastic? Beau shifted her weight.

Marion nodded. “I have sent Jester to bed. She is very worn out emotionally, I’m sure you can understand, and I think some time alone will do her good. I do not know what your group has planned, but I’m afraid I will insist that it is put on hold for at least a week. You all will stay here, of course, as necessity demands. I have postponed all of my meetings and performances as well. She will see my doctor tomorrow.” Detecting the concern on Beau’s face, she added, “I have known the man for decades; he delivered Jester. Do not worry, I can count on his discretion.” 

There was a certain recitational rhythm to her tightly wound speech, and Beau had to wonder if this was the second time it had been delivered this evening. What came next affirmed the guess, as Marion closed her eyes a second, exhaling through her nose, cold fury simmering underneath her words.

“I cannot pretend to be impartial. Your irresponsibility, your foolishness, your arrogant _ lust _ has made my daughter cry in my arms tonight, and for that alone I could reach out and strangle you this second. Not to mention…” 

All at once she seemed to lose her thread, doubt and confusion clouding her face. Beau would never be so bold as to guess this woman’s age (and besides, like most non-humans, tieflings aged weird, didn’t they?), but in the worry lines that now creased Marion’s forehead, she saw a hint of the years beneath. 

Beau hesitated, told herself to bolster up and carefully spoke. “I… completely understand. I could strangle myself, too. I know I can’t make excuses, but uh, if I had even an inkling that this could happen, I’d never have-”

“Yes, I - I have to ask,” Marion interjected, looking unsure. “As you can likely tell, Jester did not divulge the specifics of how this came about, so I had… rather geared myself up for this little speech with the presumption that it was your Mr. Fjord to whom I would deliver it. He, ah, made haste to correct me, which was not comfortable for either of us. I should not have assumed; I usually regard myself as very insightful when it comes to the strainings of the heart... and the loins. It is a necessity of my professional success. I suppose one has a blind spot when it comes to one’s own children.” She gave a flat laugh. “For good reason! But yes, I must admit, I am… somewhat thrown by this. How did you… Well, no, I do not want to know the details. ...But... ” 

She sat down on the bed, deflating a little. The motion wafted a breath of lavender perfume into Beau’s nostrils; a scent that automatically made her think of Jester - Jester tucked up in bed, writing in her journal. A comforting association. Weirder now. 

Gods, everything was weirder now. Hell, she was being forced to explain to her best friend’s mother exactly how and why she had sex with her daughter; it could have been lifted directly from one of her teenage anxiety dreams. 

“Uh. Suffice it to say there was… a polymorph spell involved, and so… my anatomy was… uh…” _ Ioun, if you’re out there, _ please _ let this be the final time I have to explain that. _

“Right. I follow, please go no further,” said Marion firmly, holding up a hand. Despite herself, she then seemed compelled to voice her confusion. “...And yet, knowing this, it did not occur to you - to either of you, I should not exclude Jester - to use protection?”

If Beau had possessed any magic right then, she would have asked Caleb’s earthen cat paw to break out of the ground and just bury her. 

“I don’t… I don’t really know how magic works,” she mumbled, “So like, because it’s a temporary spell effect, we sorta figured… it would be fine…” 

Marion’s eyes narrowed. “And I need not tell you how stupid _ that _was. You have seen the destruction and creation of which magic is capable so many times over, yet you thought that you would be immune?” 

“Nope. Yep. Of course. Very stupid.” Beau slid down into the empty seat. 

The Ruby pinched the bridge of her nose, leaning forward into her lap, letting slip more and more the poised decorum with which she usually carried herself. “You try to teach your children, Beauregard… You think you prepare them for every possibility, but then they go off into the world out there, and the world…” 

Beau looked at the floor, not sure if she was supposed to respond. An apology seemed inadequate.

“I did not used to cloister myself within these walls,” Marion said abruptly. “I expect Jester has told you, or hinted, but I have not left the Chateau in… in longer than I care to remember. I take pains in my professional life to appear to have absolute power. Only Jester and my closest staff truly know the extent to which I have become a prisoner of this self-inflicted pathology. Of this _ fear_.”

She closed her eyes, fingers tightening on the material of her robe. “I have not told her this, of course, but this fear... only overtook me when she was born. It was a complicated birth; the bleeding did not stop. And they had to take my baby away from me whilst saving my life. For weeks I was confined to bed, dependent on others bringing Jester to me, hardly able to hold her. When she was not in the room with me I was powerless to find her. In pain, paralysed... it was like this animal panic that I would never see her again. Upon reflection, it was a traumatic experience. I think I minimised that. I had experienced many terrible things in my life, it seemed… ungrateful, I suppose, to admit that my baby’s birth was one of them.”

Beau stayed very still, unsure if Marion was really still talking to her, or just airing words that she probably had very few outlets for. The quality of her voice was different - it was vulnerable, raw. There was less of a performance. For Marion was _ always _playing a role, Beau was starting to realise. Even the role she played for Jester, masterful as it was, was a calculated act of how a perfect, loving mother should be.

“I could not work, of course, for many months before and after. I recovered my physical state, but I was too busy, trying to run my business _ and _keep a new baby a secret, to deal with this neurosis properly. I could not be in public with Jester, naturally. I had wonderful people helping me care for her, but it did not seem to matter… I could not walk down to the beach without my mind convincing me that something terrible would happen while I was gone. Even as she grew, it continued. Irrationality took hold of me.

“Sending her away from me last year was awful. But my Jester has been blessed with this independent spirit, and with the patronage of this strange being, this Traveler... whom I still do not understand, but I concede he has given her this magic to protect herself. She is an adult now, it is perfectly right that she should be off in the world without me. Still... I must take pains not to show just how terrified I still am for her. All of the time.” She breathed out slowly through her nose. “It _ never _stops. And even though it could be very much worse, it is - it is hard tonight not to feel one of those fears has been realised.” 

Beau felt sick with guilt. “I absolutely understand that. I’m sorry... that’s really awful. What happened. Um… you’re an amazing mom. I don’t know how you did it.”

Marion looked up, steadier now. “Yes. Well, I apologise, Beauregard. You must be wondering what the relevance of all this navel-gazing is. There is a reason I am saying this to you.”

“I know,” Beau said, “You need me to know how important Jester is to you and - and she is to me too, I should say, like… I don’t take this lightly, not at all.” 

“It comforts me to hear you say that. But no, not precisely.”

“Oh… uh…”

Marion met Beau’s eyes again at last. “Jester wants to keep the baby.”

Before Beau could compose words to respond, she ploughed onwards. “She feels guilty about prioritising her own desires, and she has been struggling to reconcile the idea of motherhood and still being a part of this adventuring group. I sense she is very frightened, but I also sense she is decided. I have to throw my entire support behind my daughter. It is my job to bolster her now. That unconditionality, that love of her which transcends everything else, which gives me purpose? It is one of so many gifts that she has brought to me.”

The more Marion spoke, the more Beau’s head swam.

“…But to you, I owe less compassion. I am telling you this because you are going to be a parent now, Beauregard, for the rest of your life. So I see no reason to hide from you just how difficult and painful it is going to be. That child is going to break your heart. And if they don’t, you will have failed.” 

Beau placed her face in her hands, a buzzing, tinny sensation overtaking her senses. She felt numb, static. She saw the look on Marion’s face, undisguisable affront - the woman had bared her soul to Beau and she was responding like this. 

She realised she was crying. Wiping her eyes and rubbing her face hard, she tried to centre herself, finding that inner flow of ki and picturing balance. 

Roughly she spoke, trying to keep her voice flat and dispassionate. “My parents paid to have me taken away. I never got on with my dad, so. Didn’t care that much, he’d already made it clear how much I disappointed him. But my mom just stood there and didn’t do shit. Didn’t say shit. There was nothing in her eyes. I wanted… I needed to know that it hurt her. And I didn’t see that. I just saw nothing.”

It spilled out of her now, the short sentences as simple as she could make them to take harsh breaths in between. “And I feel like she did love me once. When I was a baby. But I made a mess of things, I fucked up my life and she didn’t any more. She didn’t care. And that fucking hurt me worse than _ anything _dad ever did.”

Marion stood up, crossed to Beau, and wrapped her arms around her, squeezing tight. 

Beau sniffed, taking in lavender-scented hair. “Sorry,” she said.

“No… no, you are not the one who should be sorry,” Marion murmured fiercely. 

Outside the window, the sky was fully dark, but the room glowed orange with softly flickering candlelight. Marion was warm as a hearth.

Beau didn’t know how many minutes she let herself be held.

“This wasn’t how this talk was supposed to go,” Marion said quietly, hint of a laugh in her voice.

Finally Beau drew back, tried to compose herself. “I… I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but. I’m gonna do right by this kid. I _ promise _you. I love Jester. And if I fail her, you can… you can send every powerful contact you’ve got to hunt me down.”

Marion stroked her hair and gave her a smile, revealing perfect teeth. “There will be no need for that, Beauregard. I can see that you do. And if you fail her, I will hunt you down myself.” 

*

Marion had bid her goodnight, and told her that under no circumstances was she to disturb Jester. She needed rest; peace and quiet and stability. 

Beau spent a moment stood in the corridor outside of Yeza’s room, trying to compose herself, trying to get her mind back in one place so she could act normal around the others. When it didn’t work, she decided fuck that. 

Jester’s bedroom wasn’t too hard to track down, and luckily, it didn’t seem Blude had been relayed instructions to forbid anyone, giving her a polite nod. The top floor of the Chateau only had a few doors - exclusive suites, Beau guessed, and it seemed none of them were in use. A quiet voice emanated from one door only, and she paused to listen, fist raised just before knocking. Only a few words were audible, Jester evidently talking to - well, who else.

“...That’s true. And … my mama on my side. She didn’t even… that.”

Beau strained her ears, trying to make out if there was any audible response. This eavesdropping wasn’t a habit she wanted to get into, but her curiosity was too strong. Usually when Jester talked to the Traveler each night it was a one-sided monologue, but now she had paused. She did claim to have actual conversations with the guy when alone. But was he… ugh. She couldn’t hear anything, but... she couldn’t _ quite _rule out a masculine whisper… or was it just the shifting of blankets?

Jester’s soft laugh. “Yeah, I think Beau will … great. I should tell … nervous. I know how things … dad is a mega-dick.” Beau had to hold her hand over her mouth to suppress a chuckle, but Jester was still talking, thankfully, and didn’t hear. “... you. I know it will be okay … Yeah. Thank you.” 

After a long enough silence had passed, Beau knocked. 

“Come in!”

Beau slipped inside the door and came into an expansive chamber bigger than Marion’s, bursting with so much loud colour that she didn’t know where to look first. Every inch of the candlelit walls and ceiling was painted, with no uniting theme, and varying levels of skill that seemed to track its progress higher up the walls, suggesting a growing talent along with the growth of the artist. Simplistic doodles and splotches became vibrant shapes, stars, animals, and then portraits which had shades of dimension - most frequently of Marion - before finally the upper walls contained the most ambitious artwork. Familiar Nicodranian buildings, a seascape repeated over with the setting and rising sun, as well as places Jester could surely never have seen at that point - big city skylines, a tangled rainforest with eyes peeking around every corner, a desert at night with a thousand dotted stars over blue dunes. 

As Beau looked up, the ceiling itself was the only continuous mural - a soft circuit of airy clouds in a blue sky, and in the centre was a meticulously detailed bust of a figure in a green hood, face in shadow except for a knowing smirk. The halo around his head, and the many dancing symbols of the arched doorway (as well as a few winged penises) amongst the cloudscape left no doubts as to his identity. 

The room itself was surprisingly neat, but Beau supposed that was the servants’ doing. There was a wooden stepladder against one wall, as well as a huge desk - splotched all over with spilled paint - stacked with reams of paper and paint pots arranged in a rainbow of hues. A bookshelf stretched nearly to the ceiling on the far wall, and a shining pink chest stuffed with soft toys and dolls, the lid partially open, was at the foot of the massive canopy bed. There, against a mountain of pillows, Jester sat, holding a plush owlbear and regarding Beau with a smile.

She let the door shut softly. “I… wow. Dunno what I expected, but this is incredible.” 

“Thanks! I used to be bored a lot.” Jester patted the bed next to her. “I didn’t think it would be you!”

“Yeah, uh, I spoke to your mom for a while… I wanted to see you before anyone else.” 

Beau crossed the room, kicking her shoes off and jumping up onto the bed, which was blissfully soft. She leaned back and regarded Jester from the side.

“Oh, jeez, I hope she didn’t yell at you...” 

“No, no, it was. A good talk. Weird, but good.”

Jester turned over to lie on her side too, so they faced each other. Beau had the urge to reach out and caress her cheek. She supposed the last time they shared a bed, just the two of them… things were quite different.

“So,” she said.

“So.” Jester repeated softly.

“We’re having a baby.”

They let the words sit in the air for a moment. 

Jester smiled nervously. “Is that… is that okay with you?”

“Of course… of course it is. I mean, it’s your decision. Not that I won’t - I mean to say, like. I’ll be here every step of the way. I’m gonna parent the shit out of this thing, don’t worry.” 

“Thank you, Beau. But - I know that things are complicated for you, with family, and if you don’t want to commit to this, I won’t make you. You can be honest if this is too weird. I just… I want to do this for me, so you don’t have to say all those things. I won’t be mad. My mama did it on her own, I can too.” Jester looked away from her.

Beau sat up and looked her squarely in the eyes. “Are you kidding? Of course it’s weird, but… but seriously, Jes. I fucking mean it. Just because I don’t know shit about kids doesn’t mean I’m not gonna step up. I’ll read some fuckin’ books! What the _ hell _sort of - sort of friend would I be if I let you do this alone? It’s mine too. I owe it a good childhood. Ah. Them. I guess. Not it.”

Jester smiled a little shakily and cupped her stomach. “Yeah. I - I know that they didn’t ask us to be made. Maybe it’s selfish to want to bring a baby into a world like this. But… Me too. I want to be a mama. I want to be the best mama I can. And… I think you’ll be a great mama too.” 

“Thanks.”

Beau lay down. They looked at each other in silence for a while, until Jester’s eyes began to close. 

It was pretty late, she realised. “Want me to leave you be?”

“No, I couldn’t sleep anyway. ...It’s weird. I slept in this room for my whole childhood, but now it’s too quiet! I guess I missed your snoring.” 

“Fuck you.” Beau poked her in the side. “You snore way worse than me and you know it.” 

“Whatever.” Jester stuck her tongue out, eyes still closed, and rolled on her side towards Beau again, the plush owlbear in her arms a strange barrier between them. Beau stared into its marble eyes. _ Fuck it, _she thought, and snuggled close, putting her arm around Jester. It would feel weirder not to. 

“Ooh, you’re warm,” Jester murmured against her arm.

“Yeah.” Beau smiled. “Sorry I’m not tiefling-hot any more.” 

“Heh. Don’t worry… it’s not as cold as Xhorhas here. Besides…” She gave a toothy yawn. “I like the real Beau more.” 

Her eyes were still closed. Beau looked at her for a long time. 

The bed was wonderfully soft, the outside air cool. As the candlelight burned lower and lower, her eyelids slowly followed.

*

She slept deep and sound, but woke up early when Jester shoved an elbow into her neck, making Beau jerk into consciousness with a ‘_snork?’ _noise from her throat. Extricating herself, Beau took a moment to marvel at how in slumber, Jester had managed to spread her limbs so she covered all four corners of the king-sized bed. 

The blankets were mostly on the floor, but Beau was warm and sweaty. She spent a while in a trance, staring at the vibrant walls as her brain woke up and processed what had transpired yesterday. When she finally glanced back at the bed, Jester was still out cold. From the open lid of the pink toy chest, various sets of gleaming eyes regarded her.

Beau had never really been one for dolls, and not just because she was tomboyish - her parents had provided them, but she found it a bit uncanny, talking to a little fake person. She guessed Jester hadn’t had many other options before the Traveler turned up.

She pulled a baby doll gently out of the chest, a tiefling with little nubs of horns, cherry-red paint chipping off at the points. One of its eyelids drooped closed over black pupils as she held it loosely by the arm. 

Pulling the eye back open, feeling a little foolish, Beau transferred the doll to a more nurturing hold, close to her chest. You were meant to support the head and the butt, right? Like with cats? Eh, she’d have time to ask that. She walked out onto Jester’s balcony, greeted by morning sunshine warm on her skin, people milling below like ants, the scent of the sea on the air. Just like her daydream.

She rocked the doll in her arms, looking down at its painted smile. Its droopy eye fell closed again. 

Beau snorted, then jumped a mile, nearly dropping the doll off the balcony edge, as her head suddenly filled with a panicked voice in a pitchy whisper.

_ “Beau! Are you alive? You didn’t come back last night! We’re having breakfast with Jester’s mum and I can’t tell what the sausages are made of! Say ‘fluffernutter’ if you need help! Also have you seen Jester!? Youcanreplytothismessage-” _

*

“There you are,” said Marion Lavorre over the clinking of cutlery from the Mighty Nein, smiling beatifically at Beau as she drizzled honey onto her porridge. “I told you, I did not kill her.” 

“‘Sup,” Beau waved, plonking herself into a seat. It had taken a few minutes to locate the private breakfast hall, not helped by having to telepathically update Nott on her whereabouts so she could direct her spell - and reassuring her that she wasn’t speaking from beyond the veil.

“‘Sup? _ ‘Sup_?!” Nott was her goblin self again, presumably waiting to re-cast her disguise until she saw Luc. “We were about to send a search party after you!”

“Sorry.” Beau scratched her head and began to pile her plate with as many hotel breakfast options as she could reach. “Just needed some space. Jester’s still asleep. Uh, I think. I mean, I assume. I, uh, found an empty room.” 

“Right.” Fjord raised his eyebrows, shoving bacon into his mouth. “Well, Ms. Lavorre was just telling us we’re all welcome to stay for the week. Which is extremely generous of her.” He swallowed, eyes darting to Marion with a look of nervous deference, reminiscent of the respect he’d afforded to the moorbounders, or some other entity that could squash him like an ant if it chose to. 

Beau hid a smile. Behind her, the door swung open again to reveal a sunny Jester in a pink dress, who tapped her on the head as she went to hug her mother. “Beau, you should’ve woken me!” 

She felt the eyes of the group on her at that, and chugged her water. Jester pulled back from Marion, who switched from giving Beau daggers back to pleasant neutrality, stroking her daughter’s arm.

“Okay, so. I guess I have a little announcement for everyone,” said Jester, still standing, swaying back and forth with her arms behind her, nervous grin on her face. “Um… well… so… I’ve decided I’m gonna have the baby!” 

“_Jester_!” Nott jumped up and hugged her. “Congratulations!”

“Oh, _ wunderbar_!” 

“Ah, that’s nice.” 

“That’s great news!” 

“And,” Marion silenced them all with a schoolteacher’s authority, “She will have her medical check-up today, followed by a week of _ strict _rest. I… will not force you to stay here longer, Jester, but please don’t give your mother cause for worry. For now I intend to give you the crash course on pregnancy that I never received. I do of course feel better knowing that you have the lovely - Veth, er, Nott? - by your side, but the rest of you are welcome to get as involved as you may like.”

“Absolutely,” said Fjord, sitting up straight.

“I’d like that,” Yasha smiled, and Caduceus nodded.

“_Ja, _er, they do say it takes a village,” said Caleb.

“Uh, I’ll be there. Obviously.” Beau cleared her throat. 

Jester stood a moment smiling. Her eyes brimmed with tears again. “You _ guys…_” 

“Aw, Jessie, c’mere.” Beau chuckled and stood up to give her a hug - and was soon joined by everyone else piling on to surround their tiefling; even a very stiff Caleb on the outside layer, pulled in by Nott. 

“I’m sorry… I can’t help it,” sniffed Jester from inside the bundle of warmth. Then, with a few more exaggerated sniffs, she added “Wow, you guys are _ sweaty_!”

Laughter reverberated through them all. Glancing at Marion as the group hug gradually untangled itself, Beau couldn’t say for sure, but she thought perhaps the smile she received was more genuine than before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Just so you know next chapter may be a bit later than Wednesday, sorry - caught up to my drafts, and I'm pretty busy atm and have a few writing assignments due so I've had to put fic writing/editing lower on my priorities. Hopefully it won't take long!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fjord voices a concern, practicalities are considered, and baby outfits are purchased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gang i am SO sorry this took so long!! after my busy period at uni finished i immediately got ill rip... but anyway MUCH more importantly (episode 85 spoilers)
> 
> .........................THAT HAPPENED HUH. gays we won... i feel vindicated i feel seen.... ms ray thank you for my rights!!!!!!
> 
> anyway!! here's the chapter. the lavorre family doctor is just an OC cameo for my personal amusement, but there's a more recognisable cameo at the end that's probably pretty easy to spot hehe

After breakfast was a period of waiting around in one of the Chateau’s innumerable lounges, as Marion dealt with various hotel issues her staff brought to her - it seemed her cancelled client from last night had kicked up a stink at the bar and ended up being hauled off by the Zolezzo. Beau and Fjord were both quick to offer the Nein’s intimidation services again, but Tyral assured them that the Chateau was quite used to this sort of thing and had standard protocol in place. Marion didn’t seem to bat an eyelid. 

Not for the first time, it made Beau feel weird, how everyone here - including Jester - acted like it was normal for people (well, honestly, men) to come to aggression over access to Marion’s body. Wasn’t that terrifying? The woman set her own terms, she supposed, and was surrounded by protection. Still… was this career still what she wanted? Or did her phobia limit her to this life? 

Questions for another time. Beau had too much else to worry about right now, and definitely wasn’t about to start asking Marion anything challenging for as long as she could help it. While they waited around, Nott cast her disguise and went off to help get Luc ready, and Caduceus had sauntered down to the kitchen after maids cleared their platters, interested in what the chef was cooking. Jester lay on a chaise longue, kicking her legs as she unpacked her haversack and sorted through the contents, while Yasha, Fjord, and Beau provided commentary, and Caleb read his book. 

“I hope the servants won’t have to clean this up, Jester,” said Fjord pointedly as she dumped out a tray of mouldering blueberry muffins (probably from Xhorhas, and definitely not _ that _blue when they were purchased, which made Beau’s stomach turn). The motion sent crumbs scattering all over the carpet, where they joined various scraps of fabric, clumps of dirt, and splashes of unknown fluids which had already spilled out.

“Ummm, of course not, I will pick everything up!” she replied indignantly, and wiggled forward, leaning off the chaise longue and stretching out to scoop up the debris. 

“Uh… Jes, you probably shouldn’t be doing that,” Beau couldn’t help but point out, watching the edge of the seat press against her stomach. 

“Why? Oh, yeah. Ugh. Little baby, you’re really gonna make stuff difficult for a while!” Jester slid onto the floor, sitting up and cupping her belly fat in her hands. “But it’s okay, mama forgives you,” she told it warmly. 

“It is not likely to stop being difficult after it is born,” Caleb commented, not looking up from his reading. 

Whatever Jester was going to reply, face screwed up in thought, it was interrupted by a knock at the door. An unfamiliar pale face poked in. “Jester? Are you all ready?” 

She jumped to her feet. “Oh, hey - Dr. Arnavoni, meet my friends!” 

The elven man now uncomfortably accepting Jester’s hug was slight of frame, extremely pale, holding a physician’s case, and had a countenance that made him look like a nervous rabbit - with large teeth to match. “Oh… hello.” He looked back at Jester as she let go. “I’m on a bit of a schedule, but shall we go upstairs? Your mother explained…” 

“Okay, see you guys! Um, actually if you could start picking up my stuff that would be great, sorryyyyy!” Jester trailed off sheepishly as she followed the doctor. Beau could hardly believe this person was old enough to have _ delivered _Jester, but… elves, she guessed. 

Beau looked around at the array of crap now deposited over the floor and furniture as Fjord and Yasha did the same. Jarred monster parts, potions none of them remembered the purpose of, dented weapons and armour, innumerable bits of half-eaten food, a very squashed flower crown from Reani... “Guess we better get started.” 

“Actually, Beau,” said Fjord in a low voice. “I wanted to talk to you.” 

“Oh. Uh.” Nervousness leapt down her spine for a moment at his set face, Caleb and Yasha looking taken aback. “Sure, like... alone?” 

“No, no, it’s fine, just not with Jester around. Not that… I just don’t want to add to her worries,” he muttered, standing up and beginning to scoop up debris. 

She joined him on the floor, clearing her throat. “Yeah, totally. Uh. What’s up?” 

“I... I know you said that you and Jester aren’t a ‘thing’. Unless that’s - changed.” Fjord cupped his left hand and began to delicately pinch muffin crumbs into it, eyes intent on the task as he spoke.

“No, it hasn’t.” Beau grabbed some random item of clothing off the floor and began to fold it without thought. 

So here it was, then. At least she now knew why Fjord was acting so off with her. He had every right to be pissed, didn’t he? From the very beginning he and Jester had been dancing around each other, neither daring to make the first real move. She wondered if she should assuage his fears, tell him the whole reason they’d boned was so Jester could practise for the real thing.

Nah. Thinking it through, that probably wouldn’t help, would it? Man, those etiquette lessons were paying off after all. A year ago, she’d just have said it.

“Right. And of course I respect her decision to carry this pregnancy, I just… I’m being selfish, I suppose, influenced by my own feelings, but… it’s just that you’re both very young and it’s happened so fast and... I’m concerned about the future, about what happens next. For you, for Jester, for all of us.” 

“I get it, man.” The thing she’d been trying to fold - she realised now it was a frilled green skirt - had ended up a mess in her lap. Beau exhaled, shook it out and started again. “I know, I look like a massive dick from your corner. You’re a great friend, Fjord. I’m sorry. I know you’ve been sweet on Jes for ages, and like… I’m not a threat to that. You should go for it, I won’t stand in your way. Having this kid will be weird, but I’d never let it get in the way of Jester’s happiness.” 

She’d messed up the folding again. Ugh. She should actually concentrate. In her peripheral vision she saw Caleb open his mouth to say something, then close it again. He and Yasha were both keeping a subtle distance. 

Fjord stopped, closing his fist around the pile of crumbs he’d collected. “Er… what? No, that’s… that’s not what I’m talking about at all. Beau, I mean to say, once you bring a child into the mix, this becomes bigger than romantic drama! I’m asking if you’re committed to this as parents. That you really understand what an undertaking that will be - for my sake. Jester is… she’s young, and she’s impulsive, and don’t get me wrong, I _ love _her, for the gods’ sake - I mean in the same way that we all love her! But is she ready to be a mother? What if this becomes too much for her? And the lifestyle we live now - where does a baby fit into that?” 

“Oh.” Beau scrunched the skirt into a ball and just dumped it into the haversack, defeated. “Fuckin’ shit, Fjord. I’m - yeah, of course. I didn’t even think - well, I’ll tell you the same thing I told Jester’s mom - I’m in this, okay? One hundred percent. I wouldn’t do that to my kid. I get why you’d doubt that, I mean, look at me. But Jester? Are you serious? You think _ she _would abandon her baby?”

“Beauregard, I don’t think that’s-” Caleb started in, but Fjord spoke over him; he, too, had abandoned his packing efforts, and spun around on the carpet to face Beau fully.

“Of course not, that’s not what I mean. Not deliberately, but - well, look at Nugget. Look at the godforsaken weasel. Jester is - she’s still a child herself, in so many ways. She has every good intention in the world, but she’s immature; she hasn’t exactly shown commitment when it comes to caring for vulnerable creatures! I don’t say it to insult her, I’m just trying to be realistic.” 

Beau rose to her feet. “Hold on. That’s not the same thing, and you know it! She provides for both of them, and they’re not people - anyway, look at _ Kiri! _ Who ended up taking the most care of her, who bonded with her, who taught her to take care of herself, made the most effort to get her a safe home? Jester was the one who stepped up when it counted, when we had an actual toddler or baby or - bird child, whatever - on our hands! Plus, this isn’t the same; we’ve got months and months to learn and adjust before we get the actual kid, this is not an equivalent!” 

“That’s exactly my point,” Fjord snapped, getting to his feet as well. “_Look _ at Kiri! She travelled with us, what, a few weeks, and it’s a bloody miracle she didn’t die on our hands! And when you look back, the things we were facing then were trivial compared to the dangers at our door now. We all loved Kiri, but there is a reason we left her in Hupperdook.”

“Guys, please…” Yasha protested, standing up too.

“So what are you saying, you’re saying we’re being irresponsible now by even having this kid? You’re saying Jes is doing something wrong?” Beau demanded, hands on hips. “‘Cause if that’s it, you can fucking say it to both of us. Say it to Jester’s face if that’s what you really think, I’m not gonna be your messenger.” 

Fjord wrung his hands. “I - what? No, I don’t understand why we’re arguing right now, that is not what I’m saying, I’m - I’m fucking _ happy _for you, Beau, I am just saying there needs to be a plan! This is going to be a big, big change! What are you going to do? We can’t live on the road with a baby, we can’t camp out - I’m not judging you here, I’m talking about practicalities!” 

“Oh.” Beau felt the fire go out of her, slightly embarrassed. “Well - like I said, we’ve got time to think about that stuff. We won’t put the damn baby in harm’s way, of course we won’t, we’ll… we’ll spend some downtime, think about a rota, or a… nanny… or...”

Fjord closed his eyes and collected himself. “You’ve got, what... seven months now? Seven months is not _ that _ long, in the scale of weird shit that happens to us. And there’s no guarantee what ‘downtime’ we’ll have. This war, this cult, these rifts, everything we’ve become entangled in… a lot could change, and a _ lot _could go incredibly fucking wrong. 

“...I know I’m biased. Very biased. But I need to know this baby won’t end up in an orphanage, Beau. Not knowing… if their parents are dead or just didn’t want them. Not knowing which they would prefer. Because I wouldn’t wish that on any child. And -” before she could form a reply, he continued, raising a hand - “I’m not implying for a second that we, all the rest of us, won’t be there to help you. We will. And if something happened, gods forbid, to you two, that baby would still have a family, of course it would. But what if something happens to _ all _of us? What if we’re all jailed for bloody treason in the Empire, or executed by the Bright Queen, or, I don’t know, whatever this Angel of Irons is, it turns up and just decides to obliterate us? We can’t ignore any of these things, we can’t put them on hold.” 

Yasha placed a hand on Fjord’s shoulder.

“I mean… Caleb, you know what I mean. Back me up here.” Fjord turned to Caleb expectantly, who was still folded in his armchair, now doing a decent impression of an alarmed, angular cushion. 

“Er. _ Ja. _I was really hoping not to get involved in this conversation.” He shifted clear blue eyes between them uneasily. “I… Fjord makes a good point, Beauregard. We need to make decisions. But yes, that is… that is all of us. Not just you and Jester. The Mighty Nein, we are a ‘we’, and we will all be family to this little one.”

Yasha nodded earnestly. “We’re here to help,” she said gently.

“Well, thank you,” said Beau, tone forcibly even, fighting her urge to go further on the defensive despite knowing they were right. “I… Yeah. Fuck. I… I guess we’ve both got some ‘mom’ing up to do. Okay. Yeah. We’ll start right away. This week.” 

She sighed and stepped closer to Fjord and placed a hand on his arm, awkwardly, trying to communicate her apology in the gesture. “We’re gonna get our shit together. I mean, we’re in Nicodranas. Nothing crazy is gonna happen in Nicodranas, right?”

Fjord groaned. “Why would you even say that? It’s like tempting fate…”

*

But strangely enough, she was right. Beau took Fjord’s advice to heart, and in the next group discussion, they were all convinced - and Marion delighted - that they needed more time to sort their shit out, and so the Mighty Nein decided to extend their stay in Nicodranas to a full month. 

Jester was given a clean bill of health from Dr. Arnavoni, whose general advice mainly concerned varying her diet. Marion had already arranged an increase in her daily delivery of fresh fish for the duration of their stay; as it turned out, she’d had the exact same protein cravings during her own pregnancy. With Caduceus becoming voluntary sous-chef and adding plentiful helpings of greens into the sumptuous catering, the Nein had a month of more rest, relaxation, and regular meals than they’d known for quite a while. 

Caleb spent a few days over at Tidepeak Tower, awaiting portions of Yussa’s time like a nervous kitten on his doorstep, and managed to get in several days of discussion and research about magic wards, as well as hearing Yussa’s progress into the Happy Fun Ball. Fjord, meanwhile, sought out the _ Ball Eater _ and reconnected with Orly, who was delighted to see his captain again - and reminded them all that his tattooing service was still a possibility. Jester was still keen to get her ink, but she decided to wait until their last day here, not sure that her mother would approve of her getting a magical body modification under these circumstances.

Mostly, though, their month was pedagogical; with Marion, Nott, and a now-informed Yeza as the tutors, and the rest of the Nein as pupils. Business in the Chateau continued as usual by night, except for Marion’s personal bookings which were all suspended, so they grew used to late nights listening to parties below, followed by long morning lie-ins. By day, the lounge became a classroom, as they tried to rehearse the ways their lives were about to change. 

“I wish I could see this place for myself,” Marion said wistfully one afternoon, examining the diagram of the Xhorhaus that Jester had drawn out for her. “It sounds wonderful. I am so proud of you all for making such a good impression.” 

“Well, maybe you could see it!” Jester suggested brightly. “I mean, normally Caleb teleports us from the tower, but he could draw a circle right here, and then we could just go _ whoosh _ right into the Xhorhaus, and, like, you wouldn’t even have stepped outdoors!” She looked sidelong at Marion’s reaction with hopeful eyes, and Beau didn’t miss how the older woman balked, brow creasing with alarm. 

“I… that is sweet, but I do not think… Well, I cannot… I have to attend to my business here, really, I need to be in the Chateau, for my employees…” 

“Of course, we understand,” said Fjord diplomatically, and Marion straightened her shoulders, nodding. 

Beau felt her embarrassment, their private conversation still fresh in her mind. She’d never had a phobia like that, but she could empathise well enough with having your vulnerabilities brought up in front of everybody. She cleared her throat. “So, like, we’ll have the crib in me and Jes’s room at first, obviously. When’s the squirt meant to get its own room, though?” 

Nott tapped her chin. “Well, Luc stopped needing night feeds at about six months, but he was a year and a half before he could sleep through most nights… so it really depends how often you want to be getting up and walking around.” 

“A year and a half…” Beau muttered, vowing to embrace the sleep she got tonight. 

“Even now he still needs to come in if he has a bad dream, or if he’s sick,” Yeza added. Had the dark circles under his eyes always been so sunken in? 

“Maybe we could give the baby the Happy Room!” Jester mused, looking at her diagram. “Then they’ll grow up surrounded by happy thoughts.” 

“No, they should be next to you two, shouldn’t they? How about my room?” Yasha suggested. 

“Oh, but you have your lovely flower field!” 

“Give them my room instead. I’ll move to the guest room, I don’t mind. I’m not that attached,” said Fjord. It was true that his bedroom still had the least personal touches; Beau supposed being used to ship’s cabins did that to you.

“I gotta admit that makes sense. Thanks, man.” Beau punched his arm. 

“You really need to practise some less violent expressions of fondness,” he told her, wincing. 

Jester, unnoticing, had clapped her hands together. “Oh, Fjord, thank you! I can’t wait to decorate it. I’m going to paint the walls with loads of colours and animals and lovely things for babies. But not all the walls. When they get a bit older and we know what they like, we can paint the rest together with all their favourite things.” 

“I’m surprised you remember that,” said Marion, smiling. 

“Huh?”

“Oh, is that not what you meant? When you were a toddler I would help you hold the brush and you doodled all over your walls… you had those funny drawings up there for years! But we replaced it with a fresh coat of white once I could tell you would be a serious artist, so you had a new space for your proper paintings.” 

“Mama! I didn’t remember that at all, that’s so sweet!” Jester squealed and rushed up to hug her, a few tears welling up in her eyes - something they’d now stopped reacting to as much, since in the last two days alone Jester had cried over (amongst other things): a baby bird, a rip in her cape, and the mere memory of a particularly emotional scene from _ Tusk Love_. 

Beau thought vaguely back to her childhood room, which had been massive, but empty and impersonal, the walls a neutral cream, no toys allowed out on display. She’d definitely stolen ink from her father and scrawled her name by her bedside at one time… she remembered how much she’d been shouted at, the shadow of her mother looming over her, watching as Beau scrubbed the wall clean. 

“In any case, I am afraid they can’t have their own room until they are at least two, maybe two and a half. Assuming this baby is a tiefling. I… Hmm. _ Will _it be a tiefling?” Marion asked.

Another thing Beau hadn’t remotely thought about. “Uh… well, I was a tiefling at the time. So. I guess?” 

“That doesn’t necessarily mean your genetic information was altered; that is quite a leap for a spell as mundane as _ Polymorph_,” Caleb couldn’t help but interject. “But then again, you were able to produce sperm cells, so perhaps…”

“_Please _ can we not talk about Beau’s sperm?!” Nott complained, clapping her hands in front of Caleb’s mouth as he lapsed into deep thought. “Ms. Ruby, - er, Marion - what do you mean about tiefling babies?” 

“Well, we are born with thaumaturgy.” 

“With what?”

“You know, like this!” Jester crowed, throwing her arms straight up in the air, as everyone winced and the room’s two windows flew open with a loud  _ crash,  _ letting in the sun and the squawks of a few alarmed birds fluttering away. “Aw, that wasn’t as dramatic as usual.” She put her hands down, disappointed.

“Jester… that is… anyway, this is precisely what I am talking about. As tieflings explore their innate magic, it is naturally a bit more hazardous, so you really need an adult in the room to check everything is all right… the main risk being the opening of windows and playing with fire, but the noises can be a bit unnerving too. And the tremors…” 

“Oh boy,” said Beau, head swimming with visions of the chaos a magical infant with Jester’s imagination might wreak.

“In any case, we have gotten off the subject. Shall we try swaddling again?” Marion picked up the baby doll they’d repurposed as their model, and Beau tried to make herself focus. Eventually this had to get less overwhelming. Right?

*

“Thank you so much for your patronage,” gushed the half-elven shopkeeper at _ Trappings and Trousseau, _which seemed to be Nicodranas’s frilliest clothing retailer, by Beau’s estimation, and therefore Jester’s favourite. “Come back any time! Any time at all!” 

“It’s our last morning, so I won’t!” sang Jester in her redheaded disguise. “But you’re welcome!”

Beau grunted and adjusted the weight of five laden shopping bags, which she was carrying out of both chivalry and necessity - they’d started off this market trip with Caleb and Nott there too, but the wizard had spotted a bookshop he hadn’t yet entered, which they knew well enough was akin to Nugget spotting a squirrel; there was no hope of redirecting his attention. Fjord was spending the final day sorting out the ship with Orly, and Yasha had some mysterious solo Yasha task to do, though she’d promised to be back. That left them with Caduceus, who was all too willing to help, but whose willowy frame buckled under the weight of just one of Jester’s bags. 

“I still don’t get why it needs _ this _many outfits,” Beau muttered. “It’s gonna grow out of them so fast. And puke and shit all over them. Also, it’s a baby, it doesn’t care what it’s dressed like.”

“But _ I _ care,” said Jester, in the syrupy sweet tone Beau couldn’t ever say no to, “And it’s going to be so freaking _ cute_! I was only going to get a couple of things but did you see that teeny dress with strawberries on it? And the bee costume? It even had little antennas! And that blue stripey sailor suit, oh my gosh, they will be like a little tiny Fjord!” 

“Uh, I’ve never seen Fjord in that getup, with the hat and the hanky and the shorts,” Beau snorted. “...Although now, I’d pay good money to.” 

“The bee costume _ was _cute,” Caduceus piped up. 

“C’mon, Caddy, back me up.” Beau elbowed him. “Firbolgs don’t cover their kids in all this crap, right?”

“Hm. Not as much; that’s what we have fur for. Clothing for us was mostly for modesty, or extra warmth, depending on the season. Kids’ stuff tended to be very simple, since it’s likely to get ruined.”

“So it’s just you who is fashionable?” Jester nudged him from the other side.

“My siblings did used to say I was... extravagant.” He indicated his hair with a smile and a flourish of his Xhorhassian purple robe, then seemed to think for a long while. “...Still, imagine that. A little baby in a bee costume. I think that’s just fantastic.” A bovine smile split his face, as if an infant disguised as an arthropod was the most whimsical flight of fancy he’d ever considered. 

“Oh, hang on, I want to go in here!” Jester came to an abrupt halt just as they were nearly out of the shopping district. 

Beau groaned, arms aching. “We already spent _ so _much money today…”

“No, no, last stop! This is important!” 

The building was wooden rather than stone, older-looking than most and somewhat dingier, with a fading painted sign reading _ Miller’s Toy & Game Emporium. _

“I used to spend my pocket money here every week!” Jester gushed. “I almost forgot it existed!”

“...Alright, I guess we better go in,” Beau relented.

A small bell tinkled as the three of them made their way inside. They’d bought a lot of things in preparation for heading back to Xhorhas - many were general practicalities that they’d found more difficult to source in the foreign country, but also baby supplies in abundance, just in case. An enchanted token in the shape of an owl that had a built-in _ alarm _spell, designed for childrens’ rooms, had been the priciest purchase, aside from Jester’s last-minute clothing spree. 

But they’d somewhat forgotten about toys. Beau supposed that would be easy enough to source, and Jester had plenty she could hand down - but yes, it seemed right that the baby should have at least some playthings that were new and all its own.

The shop interior was cramped, low-lit, and dusty, but had a cosy feel to it. As Jester cooed over soft knitted animals, Beau ran her hands over a polished set of seven wooden figurines. Something between dolls and toy soldiers, they were beautifully detailed, with features and accessories and weapons; she could see all sorts of imaginary games springing up easily from these. She balked at the price detailed below, though. Maybe she’d just get the bear companion that came with one of the figures.

“Interested in those?” said the shopkeeper softly, making Beau start. He was a human man with chin-length hair - Mr. Miller, presumably. “They’re one of a kind.” 

“Oh, uh, they’re nice. Bit pricey, though. Also, prob’ly not good for a baby. Choking hazard and all,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “Maybe when they’re older. But if you like my woodworking, I have a few less expensive pieces.” He indicated another shelf, adjacent to where Caduceus was absorbed in fascination at a movable automaton that looked like a giant lizard. “Gaming sets for all ages - and dice.” 

Amongst recognisable chess pieces and tokens, he pointed out a beautiful tray made of purplish wood, with a soft lining on which a series of many-sided white dice were displayed. Beau picked one up at random and rolled it. It came up 9.

“Huh.” 

“That looks familiar,” Caduceus remarked, putting down his lizard. Mr. Miller seemed to have returned to his desk. 

She picked up the die again and rolled it between her fingers. “Oh, it’s a dodecahedron!” she realised, switching to a whisper. 

Jester bounced over, attention caught by that. “Ooh, pretty.” She grabbed the die, held it up to her face and stared into it with cross-eyed intensity for a few moments. “...Aww, no crazy space adventure in this one.” She pouted and put it back.

“That’s as good a reminder as any that we have another task,” said Caduceus, with the serene smile of one always pleased to see evidence of a divine plan. Beau felt quite the opposite, unnerved by such coincidence. 

“That’s a point,” she added in a low voice. “I’ve been thinking about something else. I don’t remember all the details of how it works, but… we were in Rosohna when the baby was, like. Conceived.” 

“...So?” They both looked at her blankly. 

“So what if some random soul got caught up in the mix, or however it works?” she pressed on. “Like, what if our kid ends up being a… a consecution? I mean, we don’t know what the radius is on the beacons, but we were probably within that, right?” 

“Oh.” Caduceus blinked. 

Jester’s eyes widened. “That’s not fair! I don’t want my baby to be some random person’s soul! I want it to be ours!” she hissed. “Oh my gosh, what if we raise a really cute and perfect and adorable child and then they, like, turn thirteen and remember that they’re actually a really old drow person? They could be a total dickhead!” She pressed her hands to her cheeks.

Beau rubbed her neck. “Uh, well, hang on, hang on, I don’t remember if it was when they’re conceived or when they’re born. So maybe it depends when the thing actually comes out of your vag. So do we just have to make sure it doesn’t happen in Xhorhas?” 

“My mama wants me to try to come home for the birth.... but who knows what will happen, we could be anywhere!” Jester squeaked. “I better message Essek right now and ask him how it happens.”

“Hold on,” Caduceus’s gravelly voice interrupted their feverish whispering, his pace steady and expression bemused. “I don’t think there’s cause for alarm. Well, I don’t really get the consecution thing at all, but it doesn’t seem to me like it makes much difference either way.”

Beau squinted at him. “How d’you mean?”

“Well.” He picked up the die and rolled it around in his palms. “When you have a baby it’s a product of your genetics, right, and also the environment it’s raised in. But there’s also a third element that we don’t have control over, isn’t there? The personality, or the soul, or however you like to frame it. And parents don’t get to choose that, no matter how they might try. After all, I was raised just the same as all my siblings, but we’re all quite different in _ who _we are. So does it really matter if that soul comes from a beacon, from some past life, or from another unidentifiable source? You can’t do anything about it either way.” 

Beau thought of her parents, the child they’d tried so hard to mold her into, and hummed in thought. “That’s true…” 

He put the dice down. “The genetic part is already underway, mixing you two together in some interesting new blend. So the way I see it, all we have control over is the way we raise and nurture this child. Just like with any other child. That will determine how they view the world, and their values, and how they treat others, and how they view themselves… and we’ll do the best we can, won’t we? We’ll raise them with a lot of love, and they’ll be a good person, regardless of just who they turn out to be. I’m quite sure of that much. Even if they get a bunch of memories from some other life, that doesn’t cancel out the life we give them. So I don’t see the fuss in worrying about something like consecution. You couldn’t have controlled that anyway.” 

“Huh...” Jester blew out her cheeks. “Caduceus, you are so clever.”

He beamed. “I’m really not.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading and for your patience! i don't want to promise a regular update schedule from now on since i still have essays due, but it shouldn't take as long :)
> 
> 1/12 edit: just noticed i wrote about tieflings having prestidigitation instead of thaumaturgy lol, that'll teach me to double check everything, so made a small edit!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Nein bid farewell to Nicodranas, and are hit with pressing demands from their allies.

Beau gave serious thought to buying the dice set, but ultimately realised there was absolutely no facet of her life in which rolling dice could have any function, so they ended up leaving Miller’s with only one thing - a large plush shark with googly eyes, upon which Jester insisted. It would probably be bigger than the baby at first, but Beau had to admit it was a damn good shape for hugging. 

They deposited their shopping and bid extensive (and very tearful) farewells to Marion and the Chateau staff, promising to visit again before Jester’s due date. But Jester had not forgotten her final order of business in Nicodranas, and had set aside most of the afternoon to do so before they teleported back to Xhorhas. 

As such, their last stop for the day was the deck of the _ Ball Eater, _where Orly stood waiting; a hulking silhouette against the afternoon sun, with a somewhat fearful-looking contraption of tattoo needles set up next to him, a gleam in his dark eye. The boys had gone to sit on the pier and wait, while the girls, who’d decided to go all in, handed over their gem dust and made their requests.

Nott’s facial tattoo for charisma looked by far the most painful; it was no surprise she conked out. As the wincing goblin sat pressing ice against her swollen features, Yasha went next, requesting wisdom; the same idea Beau had. The location, apparently, was the back of the neck, and Beau didn’t know why Yasha seemed as pleased as she did with that. The barbarian sat with barely a grimace, long tangled hair draped over her bare torso as she stared stonily at the expansive ocean. Orly whistled to himself as the sun began to dip below the ocean and he traced out the simple but intricate design she’d asked for: two intersecting jade circlets of glittering flowers; leaves and buds and petals. Two rings. 

Beau stepped up, knowing what she wanted; had for a long time now, and only hoped that somewhere he was pleased. As it turned out, though, probably he’d be laughing his stupid purple ass off at her for passing out for the entire process. Asshole. 

“Who knew getting gemstones put into your skin fucking _hurt _so much?” she complained to Nott afterwards, then registered the moment they both thought guiltily of Caleb. Welp, at least Beau was blissfully unaware of the pain, even if she’d been unconscious for their last sunset on the coast.

The sky was almost fully dark by the time it came to their last member. Jester had a moment of hesitation before asking Orly if the tattooing process could be dangerous for pregnancy - to which the tortle answered honestly that he didn’t rightly know. She thought awhile, then told Beau - as much as she seemed to be telling herself - “I think the Traveler will let me know if I shouldn’t do it. I’m doing it for him. I’m going to have his hands around my shoulders for always, so… I feel like he will be able to give me a little tap if I should hold off.” 

Orly seemed bemused but satisfied with that, and nodded for Jester to take her shirt off. She flushed and folded her arms in front of her chest; despite Yasha and Beau both having spent much of the evening casually shirtless, it evidently hadn’t occurred to Jester she’d have to do the same. 

Beau laughed, sighing. “Give us a sec, Orly.” Gritting her teeth against the fresh stab of pain in her neck as she stood up, she found them a secluded corner of the deck in the shadow of the forecastle, stiffly undid her cobalt sash and handed it to Jester. “There you go, now you’ve got a tube top.” 

“Thank you, Beau!” Jester laughed awkwardly, beginning to undress. Beau looked deliberately at the dark ocean, though her goggles weren’t on, so she could barely tell where sky ended and sea began. 

Turning back, much as she tried not to let her gaze linger, she did notice the subtle changes to Jester’s physique that were beginning to show themselves. Nothing overt, but she couldn’t fail to see the difference on the folds and curves of her body, which she’d been so intimate with not so long ago. For one thing, the mere strip of blue cloth over them highlighted that Jester’s boobs had swelled a little larger - Beau hastily stopped contemplating _ that_. But her stomach, too, the solid muscle reinforcing her belly, was protruding just a bit more over the hem of Jester’s skirt. 

Gods. Every time Beau thought she’d gotten to grips with the concept, her brain was flummoxed anew. There was really a little... thing growing in there. _ Their _little thing. The unavoidable, mysterious truth that she had once held Jester so tight to her, blended the two of them together, rendered any line of separation inconsequential. That Jester had truly trusted her with the most vulnerable parts of herself. 

“I know, I’m starting to show a bit,” said Jester, a laugh in her voice, rubbing her upper arms, although it wasn’t really cold on the stationary ship. “It’s stupid, but… I’m a little nervous for the others to see.” 

“It’s not stupid,” said Beau, and took her hand. “But don’t worry. You look -” 

She looked down at their linked fingers and wondered what she was doing. Let go again. “Fine. You look fine.” 

*

“Everyone’s sure they’ve got everything?”

Beau suppressed a huff of irritation as Fjord’s voice took on its slightly condescending paternal tone, shifting the packs on her shoulders for the hundredth time as a bag strap began to press into her throbbing tattoo. The seven of them were gathered around the teleportation circle at the top of the Tidepeak, surrounded by their belongings, as Caleb bent down, awaiting his cue to finish casting the spell. 

“Yes, Fjord,” Jester sighed, arms folded. It was the end of the day, and she was slightly cranky already, tattoo pain notwithstanding. 

“Okay, just checking. And Jester - you’re absolutely sure you don’t want to stay-” 

“Yes, I’m sure!”

“-Only because you know we would all be fine with that, and keep you updated-” 

“I’m _ sure_, Fjord!” she snapped, rounding on him. Beau instinctively shrank back from Jester’s irritation. “I told you guys, I don’t wanna miss out on anything! I am not an invalid, gosh!” 

“Right… just making sure,” Fjord replied, chastened. 

He gave a nod to Caleb, who closed his eyes and muttered the final few incantations, tracing over the runes of the circle below him as they glowed white under his fingers. 

Beau shut her eyes quickly as white light burst through every line of the circle and engulfed the space, with the familiar rushing feeling in her navel as if she’d been jerked forwards on a hook. She hissed in pain as her bag strap pressed into her sensitive spine anew, opening her eyes to the cool, sterile air of the stony underbelly of the Lucid Bastion.

The guards here were used to the Nein’s comings and goings by now, or at least had all been informed of their group’s unique position, so Beau was taken aback when one stepped forward to stop them as they prepared to make their way back to the Xhorhaus. 

“Er, pardon me,” said the woman haltingly, looking the heroes of the Dynasty over with wide eyes, “The… Mighty Nein, yes? Wait here a moment, please.”

“Why, what’s going on?” asked Caduceus. Beau exchanged a look with Caleb. 

“The Shadowhand requested that he be informed when you returned to the city; he would like to speak to you all. I believe he is in council with the Queen at the moment, if you would…” She trailed off, the other guard leaving; presumably to fetch Essek.

“Oh. Very well, of course,” said Caleb, agreeable tone tinged with wariness. Beau put her bags down on the ground, wondering what they’d managed to do this time.

“Why doesn’t anybody else just use _ Sending_? Geez, it’s so easy!” Jester wondered loudly, tapping her shoes on the polished stone floor. “Essek should know I am always happy to talk to him.” 

“Well, not everyone uses their magic quite as freely as you do for non-emergencies,” Caleb informed her. 

“He _ is _ super stingy with his spell slots,” Jester mused. Beau thought back to the _ Teleport _fiasco in the jungle and smirked in agreement. 

“Still, it is odd that he doesn’t just come to the house…” 

An uneasy silence settled over the group for the next few minutes, tension in everyone’s veins - despite their status here, Beau could never shake the worry that they would suddenly be found guilty of some miscellaneous crime. It was, she supposed, the natural result of having such a catalogue of misadventures under your belt; the ever-present feeling of looming consequences hanging over your head.

She didn’t realise she was spaced out, staring at the floor, until her head jerked up at Essek’s smooth voice, abruptly close by. 

“Hello, Mighty Nein.” Essek made an elegant squared-off silhouette, draped in his formal robes, white hair perfectly coiffed, hands folded as he drifted above the floor. Beau always forgot there were no telltale footsteps to be heard with him. 

“Shadowhand,” greeted Caleb formally, looking at the still-present guard. “You wanted to see us?”

Essek followed Caleb’s gaze, expression still neutral as he said, “Indeed. Welcome back to Rosohna. Let us speak in closer quarters - I will only take a few minutes of your time.” 

Picking up all their baggage again, the Nein trooped into a smaller antechamber, the rooms all so minimalistically identical that Beau couldn’t be sure if it was the same one they’d waited in during their first nerve-wracking visit. She saw Essek’s careful eyes roving over each of their number, but she couldn’t quite tell if his gaze remained a fraction longer on Jester, who was conspicuous in only carrying her small pink haversack. 

Well, she guessed he’d have to know eventually; everyone would. Anyway, it wasn’t like Essek was a schoolteacher they could get in trouble with... even though he often exuded that energy. 

“Very well then,” said Essek now, turning to them as the door closed on its own with a smooth click. “I admit I have been eagerly awaiting your return. Although the Bright Queen has given you her patronage, many eyes in the court are still upon me as your advocate, having entrusted you with the retrieval of the Luxon beacon. So, what progress? Your trip to Nicodranas, I assume, yielded fruitful reconnaissance?”

“Ah…” said Caduceus.

“Er.” said Fjord.

“Listen...” began Nott. “It’s not that the beacon has been on the back burner or anything, but we did have a few other little thingies to take care of.” 

Beau saw the expression beginning to cross Essek’s face and hastily interjected. “Caleb’s been researching a bunch of stuff to break these wards - on the place where we think it’s being held. We thought we’d talk to this, uh, this contact we have there in Nicodranas, who’s this really powerful mage, get his advice. Plus, yeah, some other stuff, but we’ve totally been working on it.” 

Listening to how unconvincing her own words sounded, she winced internally. Why, when she was technically telling the truth, did it always come out sounding like a lie? 

Essek’s thin brows arched. “You have told this ‘powerful mage’ of the Menagerie Coast about the beacon?”

“Oh - no, no, we didn’t say anything about what it was for! He’s a weird dude, he doesn’t ask about our business. He’s super not interested. Just about, uh, the magic wards on this tower.” Beau held her hands up in protest, and Essek seemed reassured by that. (Although now she thought of it… they absolutely had shown Yussa the beacon a while ago, hadn’t they? Oops. Making _ that _a lie… which she guessed was why it sounded more convincing.) 

Just as Beau was beginning to wonder how she had ended up commandeering this conversation, knowing fuck-all about magical bullshit as she did, Caleb thankfully took the helm. “This mission will be high-risk, I am... uniquely aware of that. We did not want to rush in half-cocked,” - Beau swiftly looked at the floor to avoid catching Jester’s eye, but could practically feel her suppressed giggle - “and end up in a very poor position. The man Ikithon, whose property we are raiding, is gifted in mental manipulation; if we were caught, we would risk leaking not just our own, but also the Dynasty’s secrets. I apologise, we should have kept you more in the loop. We are highly cognizant of the risks you are taking for our sake.” He stepped forward and placed a hand on top of Essek’s. “Me, especially.”

It was a bold move, and Caleb’s deadpan delivery made it hard for Beau to tell how sincere he was being. She remained silent.

Essek seemed frozen for a moment, conflicted, then gently removed Caleb’s hand from his own - squeezing it for a second. “I… appreciate that,” he said quietly, then looked up. “Nonetheless, the Bright Queen grows impatient. We have achieved victories, yes, but also sustained heavy losses. Each day that this war continues, the pressure mounts. The pride and future of our Dynasty, the most precious and closely guarded secret of our race, has been taken from us, and we cannot relent until this is righted. ...Her other advisors face demands from their Dens. They are urging her to authorise a large-scale attack on Rexxentrum and locate the beacon by force.” 

Silence reigned in the room as Essek looked at each of them, watching the weight of his words take hold, his face grave. “I have continued to insist that you, our unlikely champions, can be relied upon to handle this with discretion. My word as the Shadowhand holds weight, and the Queen would prefer that to putting more soldiers’ lives on the line. But time marches on. Be honest with me if you cannot see this infiltration going forward.” 

Caleb was withdrawn within himself; thinking deeply, Beau could tell. Her stomach felt leaden. She opened her mouth to say something brash and confident, but it felt false when she was now sick with worry, and the guilt of lying to Essek (which was absurd, when she still didn’t wholly trust him). 

But it was Jester who spoke, stepping forward, sincerity in her usually light tone. “Essek… We are going to do this. There doesn’t need to be any more attacks or anything, so please just tell the Bright Queen to wait just a little bit longer. You can rely on us. We know how important the beacon is.” And she, too, reached out and took both his hands. 

Essek looked startled and slightly embarrassed, but didn’t pull away at once. “Well… thank you, Jester. So… when do you think you shall be ready? I will lend you my aid, of course, as far as I can.” 

“Really? Like teleportation and stuff?” 

“Er. If there is.. No alternative.” 

“Oh, Essek, thank you!” Jester grinned. “Well, we just have to put some stuff in our house, and you know, um… water the plants, and then we will get on the road to Rexxentrum! I will message you when it’s all going down, so - so don’t attack anybody, okay?” 

“Right.” He looked down at the baggage spread around them, eyes falling on the gigantic stuffed shark, whose head was poking out of one of Beau’s packs. Beau coughed and kicked it behind her with little subtlety. “I can see you have been deep in preparation.” 

“We really do appreciate your confidence in us,” Caduceus said sincerely. 

Essek extricated his hands from Jester’s, holding his chin high with resumed formality. “Well, that is all that I wanted to check. I apologise for interrupting your afternoon. Do continue home, and… just keep me updated.” 

“We will!” Jester nodded vigorously, as they began picking up their belongings. “I mean, I don’t have the spell slots _ every _ single day, you know, because sometimes we get in fights, but I will make sure to save a _ Sending _for you every time that I possibly can!” 

Essek closed his eyes minutely. “I… suppose I have signed myself up for that, yes,” he said with a tinge of regret, as the Mighty Nein gathered their things, this time with a quieter and more urgent feeling, and headed for the door. 

Caleb paused, turning back. “Thank you,” he said quietly, meeting Essek’s eyes. “We... will not let you down.”

*

“Well, we are _ fucked_!” announced Caleb the second the front door of the Xhorhaus had closed behind them, his harsh voice mingling with the tinkling of the wind chimes. “Absolutely fucked!”

“Y’know, Caleb, I’ve always admired your optimism,” Beau snarked, stretching as she set her things down in the hallway. The walk home had been near-silent, none of them daring to debrief the conversation until they could be sure of privacy.

“The clock is ticking, we have apparently just promised to march to Rexxentrum on the double, and we still do not have a real infiltration plan!” Caleb continued as if he hadn’t heard, beginning to pace. 

“I thought you came up with some good stuff with Yussa, didn’t you?” Fjord asked with trepidation.

“I think I can counter the anti-magic wards with the spell he taught me, yes, so _ if _the wards are what we think they are, then we could disguise ourselves or become invisible, all very good.” 

Beau began to speak to remind him of the blueprints from the library, but he simply raised a hand in her direction, continuing rapidly - “And we have a copy of the probable blueprints, yes, so _ if _ they are accurate and the tower has not been modified, then we may know of some theoretical entrances and exits, yes. Fantastic! _ That is not a plan_.” He ceased pacing and looked at them all, eyes blazing.

“It’s a good start,” Nott piped up, though Beau didn’t miss how her leathery ears were pinned back with alarm at Caleb’s outburst. “We stake out the place first, then knock out a few servants - he must have servants, he’s a fancy bastard - and take their place, then we’re in; we look around for the shiny glowy mind-bendy thing, _ bloop! _into the bag of holding it goes, and we’re out before he knows it!” 

“Because the beacon will just be out on the mantelpiece for any chambermaid to pocket, of course!” Caleb volleyed back with bitter sarcasm, arms folded. “You are right, Nott, there will be no advanced arcane traps, no sentries, no consequences for our trademark bumbling suspicious behaviour. It will be a walk in the park!” 

“Man, stop being a dick,” Beau said sharply. “I get you’re stressed, but you need to step back and realise your personal issues are getting in your way right now. Sure, this’ll be hard, but we’ve faced a lot of things-” 

“You have _ no idea_, Beauregard.” Caleb glowered, voice low and dangerous. “No idea what the man is capable of. Ikithon is not a creature who can be beaten, nor a human who can be outsmarted or appealed to. He is a monster, worse than both.” 

“I think I do have an idea,” she countered. “And I think Nott does too. We’re here for you, Caleb. We know what you’ve been through.” 

He wrung his fists. “You do not know the half! I gave a mere summary. I did not tell you the things he did, the things _ we _did… to intruders, to traitors…” 

She saw the colour leaving Caleb’s face as he sank down to his knees, all the fire gone. His eyes stared out at nothing, taking on the ashen, faraway look that she hadn’t seen for quite a while. 

Nott hesitated a second before kneeling on the floor too, curling herself into Caleb’s side. “It’s okay,” she whispered. 

“I’m going to make a pot of tea,” said Caduceus softly. “No more talk about this until everyone’s cups are empty.” 

Beau felt like her head was going to explode. “Tea. Fine.” 

*

They didn’t end up coming back to the subject, though. The Nein settled down in the Happy Room (at Jester’s insistence), and were each handed a mug of odd, bittersweet tea by Caduceus (“from the Maywood plot”). Yasha wrapped a huge knitted blanket around Nott and Caleb with aching gentleness. Jester picked up her book, and Fjord, settling beside her, began reading it over her shoulder with less and less subtlety until she eventually just angled it towards him. Caduceus sat by the fireplace and thought deeply, or maybe didn’t. 

Beau tried to watch Caleb without looking at him, and though he didn’t say much except a muted “_Danke” _for the drink and blanket respectively, over the next half hour he seemed to slowly decompress; defrost. Nott was almost buried in the blanket beside him, but her yellow gaze, full of worry, never left her boy’s face. 

Eventually Caleb’s tired eyes flickered up and met Beau’s. She gave him a lopsided smile, not forced, and he didn’t quite give it back but his mouth twitched, which was enough.

Only later that night, back in Beau and Jester’s room together, which felt both perfectly right and strangely separate, did the conversation resume. Jester had plumped her many pillows back the way she liked them, and snuggled into bed with her sketchbook on her knees. It was nice, simple, and Beau spaced out a little, lying on her side, watching her draw.

Intent on her sketch, Jester remarked, “Do you think I did the right thing?” 

“Huh?” Beau blinked. “...You talkin’ to me or the Traveler?”

“Whoever wants to weigh in.” Jester laughed, shrugging. “I… I kind of jumped the gun, saying that we were ready to go. I didn’t realise it would upset Caleb so badly.”

“That wasn’t about you, Jes,” Beau said softly. “You know that, right?”

Jester looked over at her now. “I know you know more than I do,” she said. “I wish Caleb felt he could trust all of us with all those terrible things inside his head. I think it would help him to get them out of there. But - of course, I wouldn’t ask you to tell me. I just hope he can someday.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I just… nobody was saying anything and Essek was talking about an attack on a city, on all those innocent people, and I just thought, if we can delay that in some way, then let’s do it - let’s say whatever we need to say, you know! And besides… it’s my fault we took such a long detour and he got in trouble.” She bit her lip.

“It’s not _ your fault_,” Beau insisted roughly, sitting up and leaning towards her. “You are important, okay? Your needs are important. And I was totally blanking, so was everyone - you made a good call, the right call. We’re on the side of ending this fight. And we’ll find a way to make this work, fasttrack this plan somehow. We always come up with something.” 

“...I did have one idea, actually,” Jester said thoughtfully, gazing back at Beau for a moment. “Like, we do have one pretty knowledgeable contact we haven’t checked in with. And we have to go through Zadash to get up to Rexxentrum anyway, so... we should totally pay him a visit!”

Beau’s brain ticked over. Pumat was in the Cerberus Assembly, wasn’t he? Surely that was way too risky… 

Ah. “The Gentleman?”

Jester nodded, smiling nervously. “My dad!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boogie woogie woogie!
> 
> The shark... is the ikea shark. 
> 
> By the way, it has vaguely occurred to me that I haven't planned for Travelercon at all in this fic? I could sit around working out exactly when in the timeline it would fall, but tbh since we have no idea what it's gonna look like there's really no point me trying to write a whole thing that'll soon get disproved by canon (I mean it looks like I'm walking right into that with the beacon plot, but oh well, I've committed to that lol). So for right now, pretend it's scheduled later in the year!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group reaches out to the Gentleman, in more ways than one. Beau gains clarity.

_ “To Zadash!” _ Nott’s customary shriek, her small fist nearly punching Caduceus’s backside instead of air, was swallowed up by the rushing, swooping sensation in Beau’s ears as Caleb’s teleportation circle glowed to life, engulfing them all in its brief flash of white light. 

She reopened her eyes in the all-too-familiar halls of the Cobalt Soul. It was a new morning, and as the Nein attempted to make a swift exit, she was stopped in the hall by a wide-eyed teenage initiate. Eh, she was probably still a cautionary tale around these parts for the new bugs. Always good to have a reputation.

“Um - Expositor Beauregard?” 

“What? Oh, I mean - yeah, that’s me,” Beau blinked.

“Archivist Zeenoth asked us to provide you with your new vestments and show you to your lodgings…” the boy gabbled, looking determinedly at the floor. 

“Wait, I get lodgings? Hot damn!”

As Beau marvelled at the folded clothes she’d been given - soft, light, and elaborately embroidered - they were led to the upper floors of the reserve, where she was left at an utter loss for words at the spacious penthouse that apparently was now hers to keep.

“Ooh, we can _ stay _here?” said Jester brightly, the only person who seemed nonchalant about the lavish dwelling and merely happy at the convenience.

Beau scratched her head. “Uh, I dunno. Hey, kid, am I allowed to let other people hang out here?”

“I - I daresay you’re allowed to do whatever you’d like, Expositor…” their escort stammered, still looking anywhere but at her, before finally bursting. “Um - I heard all about you from my classmates, they said you’re the protégé of Expositor Dairon and you’re on a secret mission with an elite international squadron and I - it’s just an honour to meet you! I want to follow in your footsteps when I complete my training… I - sorry,” he ended on a squeak, turning bright red.

“Oh… um…” Beau felt the group’s eyes on her, face heating up. “Well… thanks… uh, don’t let the bastards grind you down, I guess, and… question everyone. Especially Zeenoth.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, hurrying away, likely already formulating an embellished version of this encounter to recount to his friends.

“And cheat on all your tests!” Jester hollered after him, hands cupped around her mouth. “That’s the secret test, to not get caught!”

“Er, that’s not true! Don’t actually do that!” Fjord immediately shouted over her. 

The group stood around in Beau’s new room, Caduceus grinning openly at her. She kicked the floor, laughing awkwardly.

Caleb elbowed her. “Well, look at that. You are a shining influence, Beauregard.” 

She elbowed him back harder. “Watch it, book boy. I just got you an unlimited library card and I can take it away.” 

“Maybe you’ll end up teaching here!” Jester crowed at her. “You’re so important now!”

“Fucking kill me if that ever happens.” Beau sat on her bed, exhaling. “This is _ so _weird. All I ever did here was goof around and piss off the archivists. Then I literally ran away! How the hell am I getting rewarded for that?”

“Seems to me like your accomplishments are being recognised,” Caduceus said. “And rightly so. Not everyone thrives in a classroom; they know that.” 

“I guess.” Beau mumbled, distinctly uncomfortable with all this positive attention. “Anyway. Good to have another safehouse. So what’s the plan today? We hit up Pumat for gear, then see if the Gentleman’s got any info on Ikithon?” 

“Sounds about right.” Fjord looked sidelong at Jester. “You, er, still planning to confront him about the whole… dad thing?”

Jester sighed, sitting down next to Beau. “I don’t know… I would probably have to tell him about the baby then, right? And that’s, like, a lot, maybe? To go from a dad to a grandpa already. ...Not that he wasn’t _ really _excited about having me for a daughter!”

“Eh, his fault for not being there for the rest of your life so far,” Beau scoffed. “He’s missed a ton, tough shit. But if you don’t wanna bring all that up with him, makes sense.” 

She nodded. “Well… anyway, we’ve spent enough time on my drama for months already.” 

“‘_Drama’. _You know that’s not-”

Jester wiggled, anticipating her protest with a sigh. “I _ know_!” But Beau was rewarded with a small, pleased smile. 

*

It was always surprisingly tiring walking around a city all day, even having dumped half their belongings in Beau’s new quarters. Errands completed, with their pockets much lighter thanks to a very pleased Pumat Sol, the daylight quickly dwindled, and dusk had fallen by the time the Nein finally retraced their steps (with only a little arguing over directions) back to the Evening Nip.

Only upon returning did their long absence really seem noticeable. In Beau’s mind, Zadash and their points of contact here were regular stops for the Nein, but it had in fact been months and months. After all, last time, they’d had to face up to Cree, hadn’t they; make their explanations for...

Gods, the world was always finding new ways to hit her with it. The peculiar smell here, something mineral and musty mixing into the booze; the weird leer of the barkeeper, the abrupt darkness of the thin stairwell as the sound of the Gentleman’s constantly chattering associates drifted up from the room below, echoing off the stone; with all of it, the sheer weight of Molly’s absence pressed in on her. 

It was that fuckery with the vials of blood, maybe, that added to thoughts of him. The clandestine ritualism of it all, just like his strange magic they’d never know the story of. He’d merrily opened his own veins until the last, not even knowing how it worked... Idiot.

The scowl must have showed on her face, as Fjord gave her a subtly questioning look while the Nein waited around the more lively subterranean taven with their usual conspicuousness, attracting stares from the patrons who weren’t already familiar with them. Cree was nowhere to be seen anyway, so she shook her thoughts of the tabaxi and the questions she still might have for her. Today they had another focus. And even though Jester had decided not to jump in with parental accusations, Beau could sense her nerves from the way the tiefling’s tail remained poised in a high arc as she glanced about.

It was different, she supposed, even though they’d already met the Gentleman plenty of times before, for Jester to see him again for the first time with this new revelation. Not that they _ technically _knew for sure yet, but… come on.

"My friends! Well, well. Long time no see, Mighty Nein."

The group turned to see the silhouette of a familiar figure emerging from his chambers up on the balcony level. The light behind cast him in shadow, but Beau squinted to make out the Gentleman's face for any trace of similarity. His voice, swarthy and cool as always, was certainly nothing like Jester's warm, youthful, thickly-accented tones.

As Fjord gave some smooth reply, the Gentleman descended the staircase to lead them into a more secluded booth, and Beau concentrated on examining his features without much subtlety. The greasy, slicked-back hair, the trim figure, the small, dark eyes - there was nothing of Jester there. And while, yes; they hadn't exactly met many men with blue skin, the layer of genasi slickness as well as the pale teal hue gave him a markedly different complexion to their bright tiefling.

His mouth, though - Jester's lips weren't as full as her mother's, Beau had logged that at some point. Now on the Gentleman's face she saw a cupid's bow framed by a boxy jaw that was... disconcertingly familiar, considering just how well Beau knew the shape of it.

As those blue lips parted once more, she realised with a start she should pay attention to what was being said, as the Nein now huddled awkwardly opposite the Gentleman in one too-small corner booth.

"...Interesting. Well, much as my curiosity compels me to ask what this is in aid of, I get the feeling you wouldn't tell me if I did." He gave a curved smirk. "The Cerberus Assembly - now that's a dangerous pie, though you were correct in guessing I already have a few fingers in it."

From somewhere next to her, Beau sensed the instant Jester was overwhelmed by the need to make a comment about pie and/or fingers, and evidently suppressed it, as she said nothing. Actually, she hadn't said anything at all in this exchange. Beau risked a glance her way, and the expression on Jester's face was unnaturally fixed nonchalance as she stared at her father. It was rare to see her so controlled, and Beau was seized hard by the desire to know what she was thinking. She shook it with some effort and tuned back in. This was important.

"Hm." The Gentleman continued, flicking through a stack of papers he'd had handed to him by an underling. "Trent Ikithon... yes, he keeps his business very closely guarded, as I suspect you already know, or you wouldn't be coming to me. His estate is no different." He flipped to another page. "Staff is minimal and heavily vetted before hire. Few guards."

"He doesn't need them," said Caleb under his breath; Beau wasn't sure how consciously.

The Gentleman raised an eyebrow at him and continued. "They've been using the same Rexxentrum-based suppliers for all their sundries for decades, and magical components are all sourced internally from the Academy, of course. Very hard to get an in with that one; many have tried. ...I have a little on Oremid Hass, and contact with a few of the lower-ranking Assembly staff, but honestly, I don't know that any of it would help you accomplish an infiltration _ this _audacious."

"As we suspected. Still, we appreciate all your knowledge," said Fjord. "Is there any way we could get a copy of those papers?"

"A copy? I'm afraid not. Paper trails are very easy to trace back to their source. I should know, and this is one target I do not want on my back. You understand." He smiled without humour.

"Could Caleb maybe have a read of them?" Beau suggested, nodding to the wizard. "Great memory on this guy."

"Hmm. I don't see why not." He handed the stack of sheets over to a startled Caleb, who began his almost comically fast process of speed-reading, neck bent at an unhealthy angle as his beaky nose nearly touched the paper. The Gentleman looked up at the rest of them with some amusement. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help, but I'll be sure to let you know if I get any more leads that may be of use. You've done good work for me in the past, and such loyalty is remembered and rewarded. ...I assume the, er, usual method of communication will be available."

At this last, he looked at Jester for the first time, whose gaze he'd been managing to subtly avoid. She started and nodded. "Oh, um, yes, of course! I'll send you lots of updates about what we are up to and stuff, and you can tell me any news! Or anything! If you just want to talk, you know!"

Her voice at the end peaked just a little too high and breathless. Two or three seconds of silence ticked by.

"Well, since we're here, I need a drink." Nott announced.

"Me too," said Yasha at once, getting to her feet.

Beau sighed. "Me three."

*

The Gentleman informed them that drinks were on him, then promptly disappeared somewhere upstairs again, not that Beau cared any longer once she’d heard that much. Several rounds later, and although the beer at the Nip tasted a bit like backwash, free was free, so Beau was nicely merry. Nott was off her face, mostly on her own flask, and caught up in some deeply stupid argument with Fjord; what sounded like semi-serious bickering about the existence of a certain button-themed pirate. Yasha didn’t seem changed, but had downed about twice as much as the rest of them, so something had to have taken effect. She was staring at the table, either glazed over or focusing hard.

“Hey. You good?” Beau tapped her arm.

“What?” Glazed over it was, then. “Oh. Yeah. Just thinking.” 

“Cool, cool. What about?”

“Um… just stuff.” 

“Oh. Okay. Cool. Haha.” 

Why had she got drunk? Just to have an excuse to be this un-smooth? She felt a burst of irritation as she realised her instinct was to look around for a hot stranger to go to bed with, rather than be alone with her thoughts. What a useless, self-perpetuating pattern. Eh, at least she wasn’t trying it on with Yasha, like she would have this time last year. Then she’d really make a fool out of herself. 

There was something so beautiful about Yasha, Beau realised, which she’d never fully appreciated when her brain had still stopped at ‘big lady hot’. Not that wanting to fuck someone was less real or anything, but like... Now she _ knew _Yasha, and knew her well enough to know she didn’t want her like that, not really. 

And with that she was able to see the sleeplessness, the bloodshot lines in the whites of her eyes. The smile creases that crinkled sometimes beside her chapped lips, even though Yasha didn’t smile very much. The uneven jut of her large forehead, her slight overbite, crooked teeth, with a gap where one was missing. The scars that covered her pale skin, too; old scars, older than Molly’s had ever got to be. The years of life, the hardships she’d endured that Beau would never fully be privy to. There was beauty in being able to see all that now.

Storm-coloured eyes caught hers. “What?” 

“Huh?” 

“You’re staring at me.” 

“Oh. Nothin’.” She thought about saying ‘love you’. Then she did. “Love you, Yash.” 

Yasha looked surprised. There was a pause. “I... love you too, Beau.”

Beau tapped her again and withdrew, looking around. When they’d sat down, Caduceus had disappeared for a bit, in the uncanny way that a pink-haired seven-foot firbolg in purple robes could blend into the wallpaper. But he’d returned, ordering the usual milk for himself and Jester, although from the face Frumpkin made when offered a sniff, Beau hoped they hadn’t actually drank any. He’d taken it back to the chambers they’d been offered for the night, where Caleb had also retreated to copy down what he’d memorised into one of his holstered notebooks. 

She supposed Jes must be there too, but she automatically felt unsettled now she realised she didn’t know. Beau hauled herself off her barstool, losing her balance for a brief moment as her brain seemed to bounce off the inside of her skull and reposition itself. Fuck, this underground gangster moonshine was stronger stuff than she realised. Who’d have guessed? 

“And he not fucking - I know things, shut up! You don’t fucking know me - I’ll kill you! I’ll put jam in your shoes, I’ll kill your fucking horse - _ hey_! Beau, wherragoing?” Nott was stood on the bar, inches from Fjord’s nose, shouting at him as he stifled laughter, until she broke off to shriek at Beau, head whipping around with unnerving speed. 

Beau pointed in a vaguely upwards direction. “I… Jester.”

“Ohhhhh. _ Right_.” A knowing, toothy smile split Nott’s face.

“What?” Beau squinted at her. 

“Nothing.” Nott’s smile widened. Fjord, too, was grinning behind his hand. 

Beau groaned. “I don’t know _ what _you’re talking about. But fuck you both anyway.” She walked off with what she hoped was elegance.

A moment of silence, then _ “Beau and Jester, sitting in a tree-” _

Unbelievably, this was Fjord. She raised both middle fingers high without looking back, and heard them both break off into giggles. “Couple of fuckin’ schoolgirls!” she yelled, aware several other patrons were watching this display with open amusement.

Beau was so furiously embarrassed that by the time she got up to their room she felt sober. It was a little cramped, but pleasant, with enough bunks for everyone. The scrawny figure lying prone with an open book for a head must be Caleb, with Frumpkin curled up on his rising and falling chest. She hid a smile. Caduceus, who was kneeling on the floor, cutting herbs into a jar with a rhythmic _ snip-snip_, greeted her with a nod. 

The other beds were empty, though she saw a green cloak and pink backpack laid out on one of them, still made up. She glanced around. 

“She’s having a conversation,” said Caduceus softly, indicating with one shoulder out of the open door. 

Fuck him and his insight. Beau walked out to the balcony again, looking around until she saw it - a booth down on the far side of the tavern, where it was much quieter and perhaps deliberately empty. 

Cast in warm shadows, on either side of an unadorned table, Jester sat opposite the Gentleman. Both of them were almost greenish in the yellow candlelight. He was leaning forward, saying something. The noise was still far too raucous for Beau to hope to make out a word, never mind the drunken buzz still in her head. She couldn’t see Jester’s face from this angle. The Gentleman’s shoulders were drooped, though, his haughty mannerisms looser. He finished speaking with a pained smile, eyebrows pulling tight. 

It looked genuine enough. Jester’s shoulders were trembling. Under the table, she curled her tail around her legs as she started saying something back. 

Beau’s chest ached. She felt her arms tense. Usually that meant she wanted to punch someone. Right now she just wanted to wrap them around Jester, though. Make her feel held. 

“I think you should let them be.”

“Holy shit, Deucey, one of these days I’m seriously gonna punch you by accident!” she hissed.

He held his hands up apologetically from where he’d crept up behind her. “Sorry.”

“Yeah. ...I wasn’t gonna interrupt, I just needed to…” 

“I know.” He smiled like he did. “She knows she can come to you, don’t worry.”

“Yeah.” Beau followed him back into the room, shutting the door behind her. Frumpkin flicked an ear at the noise and opened one eye, but Caleb’s breath stayed even. 

“Whatcha makin’?” Beau sat down on a bunk and patted her lap, making quiet cooing noises at the cat.

“Tea.” Caduceus sat back onto the floor, long bovine limbs folding into one another, and resumed his _ snip-snipp_ing of some reedy purple herb. Lavender, maybe. 

“Huh.” Frumpkin obligingly padded over and jumped up onto Beau. She scritched his ears and fell gently back, watching Caduceus with half-lidded eyes as he sifted through the lilac stuff with his soft grey hands. “I just thought you had an endless supply.” 

“I try to.” He smiled, scooping up the pile of cuttings and emptying it into a different bowl, where he then added something black and started grinding it with a tiny pestle, the same even rhythm as Frumpkin’s rumbling purr, vibrating through her torso. “So I top it up whenever there’s time. Starting to run out of plants from home, but you never know where you’ll find good things growing.” 

“Wow. That’s so deep.” Beau let her eyes close. 

“Oh. Is it?” 

“Mm.” 

*

“Shh, you’ll wake everyone up!”

“_You _ shush!”

“Ow…”

“Ooh, sorry Jester! Sorry! Oh fuck, that wasn’t your stomach, was it?”

“No, just my ass.”

“Oh, that’s all right then. Sorry again.”

“Shh!” 

Beau’s eyes flickered open. Someone had drawn the curtains and blown out the candle, but in the darkness she could just about make up the big-and-little shapes of Nott and Fjord swaying their way across the room, eventually identifying two unoccupied beds and falling into them. 

From the sound of her voice, Jester must be next along to Beau. She wriggled around, dimly made out the curve of Jester’s horns. Frumpkin, still a warm weight on her torso, squeaked a complaint, stretching out his long legs and yawning hugely.

Beau petted him, eyes half-open. A few moments more of drunken whispering and the room quietened back down again, deep even breaths punctuated by Nott’s raspy snore. 

As Beau’s eyes adjusted she realised Jester was looking back at her. Propped up on one elbow, the faint outline of her curves was dappled in shades of night blue as she gazed at Beau. 

“...Good talk?” Beau whispered.

Jester lowered her gaze. “Yeah. I… I think so.” She smiled wryly. “I don’t really know how talks with your dad are supposed to go. But… yeah, it was surprising.” 

“Well, I’m sure as hell not the expert.” Jester gave a quiet snort at that. “But was he at least, y’know, sorry?”

“...He was.” She paused for a while, deep in thought, then exhaled. “I just wish that made up for him not being there.”

“Yeah. Hey... _ fuck _dads,” Beau leaned closer, whispering emphatically. “Who needs ‘em? Not our kid.” 

She hoped to elicit a laugh with that, but instead Jester’s brow wrinkled. “That’s not how I want to think. I - I mean of course not about _ our _baby but - I don’t want to just say fuck him. I want to know him, you know? He helped make me, and my mama loved him, and - that means a lot to me, Beau!” 

Her voice cracked a little as it rose in pitch, then dropped to a whisper again. “But - but having the baby makes everything way more complicated. I didn’t tell him. I didn’t know how. I - I feel like I’m still a kid sometimes. I know I’m not really, but… I haven’t figured out a lot of things that people are really supposed to know about themselves.” Her chin wobbled. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to raise a child when I haven’t figured out how to be a person yet.”

“Oh, Jes…” Beau sat up, dislodging Frumpkin, and reached over the bed to stroke Jester’s shoulder at an awkward angle. “Hey… you know. It’s not too late, like… if you decide you don’t wanna do this after all, then that’s totally still your decision to make. Everyone would understand. We can ask Caduceus for a potion. It wouldn’t be a big deal.” 

“No, I -” Jester flinched away from her touch. “Stop doing that, okay? Stop treating me like I’m made of glass, and everyone going, _ oh, whatever you need, Jester, _ all the time in these soft voices, it’s really irritating and - _ no_, that’s not what I mean, Beau, not at all! Of course I want a baby, I want to be a mama so bad, I always have, I just - you don’t get it.” 

Taken aback, Beau drew away, struggling to keep her voice an even whisper. “So - so tell me. Help me get it. I want to be in this with you.” 

Jester sat up and curled her head into her knees, voice muffled. “Look. I… Do you really think I wanted it to happen like _ this_?”

_ Oh. _

_You thought she wanted _ you?

”I never ever pictured that being pregnant would be under these circumstances. And I’m just trying to make the best of it. But it’s not what I imagined, and it’s hard.” She sniffled. “It’s really hard sometimes.” 

Beau could feel her face stiffening with quiet humiliation. That vulnerable feeling deep in the pit of her stomach that she was always stuffing down began flooding through her, cold and gleeful and so familiar it was almost welcome.

_ Did you forget how you drive everyone away, how you make everyone hate you, even the people who _ have _ to love you? _

“Sorry,” she muttered, then rolled herself up in her blanket and squeezed her eyes so tight her head hurt, willing herself to just fall asleep and not think. But the voices kept rushing in anyway the second silence fell. 

_ Aw, you wanted to play happy families and assumed she felt the same? You think you’re that good, huh? Did you forget that it was all pretend in the first place? _

The voices sometimes sounded like her father. Sometimes like her mother. But mostly they sounded like Beau.

_ You’re not her handsome prince. You really fucked up her life, just like everyone else who makes the mistake of trusting you! Great job! _

It was fine. It was fine, it was fine, it was all fucking fine. It didn’t matter! She’d get through this the same way she always had. By continuing to act like she was the shit. Hell, she’d made it this far riding on bullshit she didn’t believe. Hero of the Dynasty. Expositor of the Cobalt fucking Soul. 

She rolled over again, pressing her face into the pillow. Gods. How typical that she’d heard Jester talk about something so difficult and made it all about herself. Well. She’d make this better for Jester however she could. She’d just have to stop shoving herself in her face, trying to act like she was special, like they were a couple. Clearly she’d given her enough grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (emerges gasping for air from the Essay Void) wrow..... i am.... so sorry for the hiatus again. but my term papers are done at last so i can return my attention where it belongs. thanks for ur patience! 
> 
> fyi, decided jester's talk with the gentleman was pretty much identical to the one they had in the show; she almost told him about the baby then decided not to at the last second bc they both had so much to take in already. maybe he'll find out later on.... i actually haven't decided yet! but i thought i wouldn't write too much about her feelings on his story, since jester hasn't had that conversation with anyone in canon :0 
> 
> & sorry for the angst... there had to be some, we stan a gal with major self-esteem issues


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the road again, the Mighty Nein journey to the Empire's capital, and Beau keeps her distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This travel chapter is dedicated to the people who update and maintain the CR wiki.... you're doing god's work

Beau slept like shit. The Evening Nip didn't seem to ever actually close for business, which made sense given its clientele, but the constant drip of strangers' voices, from conspiratorial whispers to drunken braying, distant as they might be, were excuse enough to jolt her brain awake and back into cyclical thoughts, over and over. When she finally stirred at the sound of Caduceus opening the curtains - which cast only the dimmest sliver of light across the basement chamber - and beginning his soft morning prayer, Beau was already exhausted.

She lay completely still for a long moment, staring at the grimy ceiling, then sat up straight, shoving her hair out of her eyes and into her topknot, pulling the tie tight enough to make her teeth clench. Jumping out of bed with a thud, she began her stretches at once, leaning sideways over Caduceus to poke Fjord in the cheek, who was still deep asleep. "Hey. Fjord."

"Mhuh?" He burrowed deeper into his duvet.

Beau poked him harder. "C'mon, man, no rest for the wicked. Gotta work that body, we've been slacking. Up you get, fifty pushups before breakfast."

"Noooo." He turned away from her.

She jabbed him with a soft kick as she switched to a upright hamstring stretch. "Up and at 'em!”

"Owww!" He whined, now fully curled up like an enormous green woodlouse with a hangover under his blanket. "Wildmother, please... this isn't worth it. Take your boon away."

Beau’s pestering had worked, though, and Fjord rolled out of bed and joined her as Caduceus finished picking his spells and watched them stretch, chuckling. The rest of the group began to rise; Jester, yawning, immediately announced how hungry she was. Beau sunk into a plank, looking at the floor and clenching her hands together hard. 

“I will be happily surprised if they actually serve breakfast at this establishment,” Caleb commented, strapping on his book-holsters.

“I’ll rustle something up,” said Caduceus. “We’ve got a long journey ahead of us.”

Fjord grunted as he completed his second set of pushups. “We’ll... catch up... in a few.”

Beau stayed quiet, trying to tune out the sound of the Nein filing out of the room, concentrating fully on pushing her body in an even rhythm. Up, down. Up, down. Times like this she wished she had some way to listen to music when she worked, but for now she’d make do with the beat of her heart and the sound of Fjord’s exertion, in tempo with hers. 

There was a gentle tap on the small of her back, and she jerked, nearly falling flat. 

“Hey, Beau,” said Jester cautiously. “Just quickly, um - we’re cool, right? I’m sorry I was kind of snappy with you last night. I was in a weird mood because of everything with my dad, but like - I didn’t mean to be mean!” 

Beau inhaled deeply, propped up on her elbows and carried on with her pushups, not looking at her. “Yeah, it’s no worries!” she puffed cheerfully. Up, down. “Seriously, you should always -” Up, down. “-Just speak your mind.” Up, down. “I’m obnoxious like that,” Up, down. “I need to be told stuff straight.” She exhaled and sank down, finally permitting herself to look up.

From high above her leather daisy-patterned boots, Jester’s expression was doubtful. “Okay! But you didn’t do anything wrong, really. I was just being hormonal. You’re not mad at me?” 

Beau laughed in a breathless huff. “I couldn’t be mad at you. Don’t worry. I was just... drunk. We’re chill.”

“If you’re sure.” Jester bent down and booped her on the nose. “See you downstairs! Good work, Fjord!” She ruffled his hair, then left the room. 

Fjord gave Beau a long sideways look as he caught his breath. “I feel like I missed something. I was plastered last night. Is everything alright with you two?” 

“Yeah, just - don’t worry, it was nothing.” Beau closed her eyes. “More importantly. What number are we up to?” 

“Shit! I lost count.” 

“Y’know what that means.” She grinned nastily at him. “Better start again from the top.” 

Fjord plunged his face onto the hardwood floor, groaning. “You’re horrible. You’re a horrible person.”

*

Leaving Zadash turned out to be a lengthier business than anticipated. The party had grown used to their convenient magical modes of continental travel, but with no closer links, they realised over breakfast that they’d have to make this journey the old-fashioned way for once. Although Jester made an impassioned case for teleporting back to Xhorhas to find their long-lost mounts (“I just _ know _Yarnball will come running to me if we wave a dead cow in the air or something… He definitely misses his mama!”), eventually she was persuaded that even if this did work, moorbounder probably wouldn’t be the most inconspicuous way to travel towards the Empire capital. 

There was some arguing, some faffing, some last-minute purchases, unsuccessful haggling, and sidetracked rubbernecking when they passed the still-ruined wreckage of the Trispire in the city centre - repair funds must be on hold during wartime, Beau supposed. Finally by midafternoon the Mighty Nein purchased yet another team of horses for a small fortune, and left Zadash from its northernmost gate for the first time, the Amber Road stretching ahead of them. 

Beau, squinting against the sun as the wide dirt track spread in front of them, supposed she actually _ had _travelled this path before - what felt like a lifetime ago. But she hadn’t exactly been paying much attention to her surroundings, stuck in the back of a carriage, swearing blue murder and wishing death on everyone involved as the Cobalt Soul monks had dispassionately transported her south from Kamordah. Ugh. She thought about bringing it up as a point of conversation, then decided not to embarrass herself like that. Good thing they’d be steering comfortably clear of her home.

“Do you think we should give them more dignified names, so we’re less likely to lose them?” she asked instead, petting her horse’s mane.

“Do you have a name?” Caduceus asked the sturdy, dark grey carthorse he’d been assigned. It looked at him. “That’s fine, it’s a personal question,” he assured it amiably.

“Oh, I already named mine Sugarlump. Do you mind, Sugarlump?” Jester’s piebald horse nickered and tossed her head. “I don’t think she minds!”

Only Caleb said nothing as they mounted up and trotted out onto the road, hands curled rigid around the reins of his calm bay mare, mouth set. He looked grey.

Just a week or so of travel, and they’d be in Rexxentrum. It was not a hopeful thought.

*

Monotonous and long, the first few days were blurred into one by the serene, rolling fields on either side of the wide and dusty Amber Road, occasional passers-by in caravans staring openly at the Nein as they trotted past. There was little danger on a path this well-trodden, and at night they slept in shaded spots under the protection of the dome - it was a nice reprisal of a simpler time in their lives. Away from the city, once they’d passed the Bromkiln Byway, the stars above were bright and clear. 

For Jester’s sake, of course, Beau was glad they didn’t run into any real trouble (one night a pack of wolves tried to attack their slumbering horses, but they scared off easily once spells started flying) - but it was _ dull_, desperately dull. In-depth conversation was difficult, her back was always stiff and her ass was always sore. And every time that she’d normally call out to Jester, or ride close to her to share some easy joke or observation, she checked herself now, trying to keep it to a casual, friendly limit. What the hell did that look like, anyway?

Once they rode past the enormous industrial site of Egelin Quarry, its sounds of clanging and drilling leaving them all with headaches and foul moods, the deep green mountains to the north became faintly perceptible. Still washed with blue air, far enough to be a painting - but undeniable now, that their destination lay in the heart of those peaks. With the approach, Caleb’s mood only darkened. 

“Hey, Beau, we’re not far from your hometown now, are we?” Fjord remarked that day.

Beau was alarmed to realise he was right; the earth underfoot was muddy and rich and the air an odd mix of sulphuric and sweet - they must be almost due precisely east of Kamordah. “Ugh. I guess so.” She couldn’t stop her eyes from roving around then, as if her parents might be lurking behind any boulder with a giant net. “Good thing we aren’t getting any closer.”

“Yeah, fuck those guys!” Nott agreed. 

Yasha, riding ahead, turned around to look at Beau with brief bewilderment. “You really never want to see them again?”

Beau rolled her neck. “Hah. I… well, not _ never_, I guess, but I know it’s gonna suck. And they sure haven’t expressed any interest in seeing _ me _again. So hell if I’m gonna make the first move.”

Jester chimed in. “I could pretend to be Zeenoth again and message your dad and remind him how cool and powerful you are!” 

She snorted. “I think at that point even he might get suspicious as to what that’s all about. But thanks for the offer, Jessie.” 

“Anytime, okay?” The sharp-toothed grin Jester flashed Beau before turning back around to keep her horse steady was like a stinging little bolt of brilliance piercing her chest. Fucking balls.

*

Between Caleb, Nott, and Beau, they had a good idea of the geography of the northwest Empire even without consulting their map, so once the mountains before them had swelled to a threatening immediacy that dominated the horizon, the slopes detailed enough to make out trees and paths and waterfalls, they knew the Eistus River couldn’t be far. 

But it was the end of another long day of travel by the time they made it, all pausing at the edge of the roadside to take in the rosy pink light spilling across the rushing water. Although Beau knew the Eistus was a major landmark, she was still startled by its size; how a single line of ink on a map could be this enormous; an irregular gash of an eroded valley, mountain water gurgling and gushing in its haste to where it spilled into the bloated Erdeloch to the west. An expansive, pale stone bridge stretched across it, clustered with noisy traffic. 

“Should we give the horses a drink and a rest? I don’t know about you all, but I’m hungry,” said Caduceus.

“I’m _ staaaarving_,” Jester replied, as she did three times a day whenever the offer was made, rubbing her belly. “What are we eating?” 

“Uh, well, I think I’m out of supplies for anything but soup.” 

Jester groaned. “_Caduceus_. I can’t eat any more soup or I will puke!” Her nausea had thankfully relented, but the threat was still real enough that all of them flinched. “Oh, not that it isn’t super nice of you to cook for us, as always,” she added hastily. 

Caduceus peered around, squinting against the evening light, and Beau, wondering if he was looking for a pop-up restaurant, did the same. Although the constantly busy bridge wasn’t the most tranquil, the riverbank area off the roadside was surprisingly pretty. A grass-covered slope dotted with flowers led at a gentle angle down to the water, where a few seemingly unsupervised kids were playing in the distant shallows, splashing each other and shrieking. 

On the other side of the road, a gnomish family in a caravan had stopped to pile out in improbable numbers and set up a picnic, and though the river must have been sixty feet across, far on the other bank she could just make out what looked like a couple lying together on a blanket, apparently undisturbed by one lone fisherman nearby, still and patient by the water’s edge. 

Caduceus stepped lightly off his horse and towards the thickly clustered trees to the east. “I’ll see if I can find any fresh ingredients. There’s often a lot of fungus coming up under dead leaves this time of year, and I wouldn’t mind a little walk with the Wildmother.” They were all rather bow-legged, and taking the opportunity to stretch, backs and joints cracking, as they tethered the horses. Beau might not have understood the deity connection thing, but she could empathise with the need for introvert time, and didn’t protest him going alone. 

“Okay! Ooh, yummy... more fungus!” said Jester with false cheer. Watching him walk off, she sighed. “When we get to Rexxentrum, I am going to buy a box of every kind of fancy donut and eat them all at once. With whipped cream on top.” 

“Oh, but this is very good for you, Jester - lots of vitamins,” said Nott, somewhat absently. Beau looked over at her. Her posture was straight as a board, eyes fixed on the river. 

Fjord, who didn’t appear to have noticed, stretched out his arms and announced “Right, I’m going to catch a fish!” 

“Er, do you even have a fishing rod?” asked Caleb, brow raised.

“No need, my man, no need,” Fjord promised, beginning a confident stride down to the riverbank. “All a sailor requires is his wits.” 

“You could Eldritch Blast them out of the water, but you might scare everyone here!” Jester mused, skipping ahead to beat him there. “Especially with the shouting you always do. I guess I could use a spell; let me think about what I have prepared, or… Ooh! Yasha, you could probably just _ stab _them straight out of the water!”

“Um… I guess I could try,” said Yasha, following them down. “I’ve hunted a lot of animals, but not many fish.” 

If Beau had been paying more attention, she might have pointed out that _ she _probably had the best shot of any of them, with her missile-catching training, but she was distracted now - something was definitely up if Nott wasn’t taking this opportunity to mock Fjord’s strange impulses. As Jester, Yasha and Fjord continued to chatter and make their way to the water’s edge, she and Caleb waited with their small friend, who was unusually still and silent.

She waited for someone else to speak first. But Caleb was patient, and Nott was glazed over. Eventually Beau sat down on the grass, and the others followed suit. 

“I know it’s stupid. I don’t have to go in,” said Nott eventually. “And I have the ring so I _ can’t _go under. It’s just - it’s worse when it’s a river. I physically can’t, I -” And she reached for her flask, but Beau placed a hand on her arm. 

“You don’t have to,” said Beau firmly. “I mean, get drunk if you want, but not for that reason. It’s chill. Hey, we got the best spot to watch Fjord make an ass of himself.” She put her arm around Nott’s small and bony shoulders, and surprisingly, Nott leaned into it. 

“Hey, Nott the Brave,” said Caleb, and he took her hand from the other side.

She smiled. “What?”

If he was going to elaborate, it was interrupted by the sound of an enormous splash - at the river, Yasha had waded several feet in and plunged the Magician’s Judge straight down into the water with earnest determination. 

The three of them turned to watch, amused. Jester was paddling in the shallows, skirt pulled up and tucked into her belt, buckling over with giggles. Fjord was nowhere to be seen for a moment, but then a green head breached the surface deeper in, spouting out water from his mouth as he swam with fluid grace towards Yasha, saying something that got lost under the noise of traffic. Yasha looked disappointed and raised her sword again, massive arms bulging as the blade caught the sunlight. The kids who’d been playing nearby were now giving this trio a wide berth. 

Beau shook her head. “This is gonna be the whole evening now, isn’t it?” She drew back and leaned on her elbows, enjoying the sun.

Nott and Caleb were silent too long before Nott said, in a tone far too nonchalant, “By the way, Beau, we were wondering - is there something going on with you and Jessie?”

She groaned, opening her eyes. “This again? Oh my god, no. There is nothing going on, there has never been _ anything _going on-”

Nott snorted. “Well, clearly there was. But no, I mean, are you fighting? Did something happen?”

“No, I - ugh.” Beau sat up and began pulling up grass with her fists at a furious speed. Why was everyone in this group always in each other’s business all the time? Well, probably because they spent all their time together, but still. “I just - she made it evident that I’m being annoying. I realised I should back off a bit. Y’know, I’ve already done enough to like, mess with her life!” She laughed without humour. 

Caleb stared at her with a puzzled frown. “Jester said this? Really?”

“Um, well it wasn’t precisely those words, but yeah. You know, she was super sweet about it, of course, but... I got the message. And she’s right. Now that we’ve got this messy thing between us, this baby, it’s probably best if we - if we draw a clearer line, you know, that we’re just friends.” She could feel her face heating up a little. 

“That doesn’t seem like her,” added Nott in the same sceptical tone. “I mean, Jester adores you, Beau.” 

Beau was definitely red now. “She adores everyone,” she mumbled, looking at the pile of ripped-up grass in her hand she’d accumulated without realising. She sprinkled it onto Caleb’s head, who shook it off like a cat. 

“Yes, but not like-” and Nott hesitated as Caleb gave her some sort of look. What? “Well,” she said hastily, “I’ll let you figure that out yourselves. Just - Jester doesn’t put it out there, but she still needs a lot of support, so don’t retract yours too much, all right?” 

Beau looked between them with suspicion. “...I won’t,” she said honestly. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.” 

“I found mint!” came Caduceus’s cheerful voice. He sat down next to them, arms bundled with plants, mushrooms and sticks, crumbled earth all over his embroidered robe, looking as happy as could be. 

*

It was an interesting dinner - Fjord had managed to stab a few near-tasteless fish with the Star Razor, which meant they were mangled and difficult to debone. They all made a show of appreciation, but it was tough chewing. Hopefully, though, this was their last dinner on the road. If they rode at a decent pace tomorrow, they could make Rexxentrum by nightfall. 

“Oh, I still have a few slots tonight. Let me do everyone before I forget!” said Jester in between mouthfuls. Before anyone could ask for clarification, she began casting, hastily fumbling somatic gestures while still eating. Fjord sighed, putting down his spoon and holding up his fingers.

“Hi Mama! Hope you are well! We just had a lovely time splashing around in the river and Fjord caught three fish!” At this point Fjord pointedly showed three fingers to Jester, who flapped a hand - “I _ said _three! Don’t worry, Fjord, I told her! ...Oh, shit, that’s what you meant,” she realised as the spell faded, then sat smiling in silence as she listened privately to the response. 

“Okay. Next one!” She sat up straight, concentrating more as she recast. “...Hi Dad! How are you? We are having fun, we are by a river and -” This time finally noting everyone’s frantic gesturing to Fjord’s remaining word count, she coughed. “Um. So… got… any news? Nearly… in… Rexxentrum… and…” She thought hard. “...Stuff.”

They all waited as Jester listened, then shook her head. “Nothing big, he said. The school is having some parties to celebrate the end of term in a few weeks, but... I don’t know what we could do with that, really.” 

“Mm.” Caleb rested his chin in his hands. “Those would take place on campus anyway, and there really is no way to disguise yourself magically in the grounds of the Academy. What we need is a _ personal _link to Ikithon, some new connection we can take the place of... or something like that.” 

“We could write him a letter pretending to be some interested business person, or shady mage?” Nott piped up. “Jester and I are very good at deception.” 

Caleb shook his head, too deep in thought to even seem amused. “Too suspicious. Any new person who comes into contact unsolicited and seems too interested, he would have them vetted thoroughly. He is sure to discover the falsehood of any backstory we make up.” 

“Guess it needs to be something he wants,” Beau mused, frowning. “We just… need to figure out what, and get ourselves into position to be the people who provide it.” 

“I’m sure we’ll find something,” Fjord assured vaguely. “Once we get to the city.” 

Jester lay back on the grass and began weaving her spell for the third time with a small sigh. “Hi Essek! How are you? Almost in Rexxentrum! Excited to… do... the mission. Tell the Queen it’s all under control! ...Give… her… our… love. Byeee!”

*

Early the next morning they were off, woken naturally by translucent light filtering through the dome soon after dawn broke. Though their horses’ hooves on the stone bridge clattered too noisily for words to be exchanged, there was a sense of renewed alertness amongst the Nein, Beau thought - or maybe nervousness. The Eistus flowed busily below, the rolling fields behind her, and somewhere behind the huge, shadowing mountain peaks lurked the capital. 

In-between looking forward to the practical comforts they’d been missing - a soft bed in an inn, a hearty meal cooked by someone who wasn’t herbivorous - and picking up the anxiety rolling off Caleb in waves, Beau found herself in an odd, reflective place. There was a strange excitement in that nervousness, to just get there, finally face what haunted them. 

She was startled out of her reverie by Jester’s voice. “Hey, Fjord, Beau! When you think about it, this is the end of the Amber Road! Isn’t it super weird that we’re finally here?” 

“Huh.” Jester was smiling at both of them, and Beau smiled tightly back. “...I guess it’s been a long time since we started our journey. Man... We never could have guessed how different things would be.”

“Guess I’ll still get to see the Soltryce Academy,” said Fjord. “Perhaps not in the way I first hoped.” 

“Well there you have it,” came Caleb’s voice, harsh and grim as they halted at the Amber Crossroads and waited for traffic to pass. Just peeking out behind the sloping mountain’s edge, Beau could make out a city skyline ruled by eight gleaming towers. No more postponing it - they had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this shouldn't have been so hard to write but i kept being thrown for a loop by things happening in canon lol (i had already written the scene w them leaving the gentleman, getting new horses and leaving zadash for the north before they then did exactly that...) thanks for all your comments & kudos, i really appreciate it!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the capital at last, the Nein find their task isn't as simple as they thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i went back and edited mentions in earlier chapters but jsyk - i decided to change the beacon hiding place to be trent's actual tower in the candles rather than his country home because it was simpler! knowing my luck, everything i made up about it will immediately be disproved next episode

“Man, even the bathrooms are fancier. Look at this chamberpot! It looks like it has never been shat in.” Jester put her nose close to the porcelain and took a whiff. “Ooh, smells like it, too!” 

“Jester, that is fucking disgusting,” Beau said flatly, sticking her tongue out in concentration as she traced her eyes with a thin line of kohl. Occasionally glancing back at Jester’s face for reference, she began to dab tiny dots of it onto her cheeks, creating a spray of freckles, and a mole or two for good measure. 

Quickly bored waiting for Beau to complete her mundane disguise, Jester had spent the last ten minutes hopping about in the background, inspecting their new room and narrating her finds. The Nein thought they’d selected a modest, generic place of residence for their Rexxentrum base, but it turned out that even an ordinary hotel in the Shimmer Ward was eye-poppingly expensive. Though they’d handed over the gold for four rooms begrudgingly, it was actually incredibly nice to put their things down in spacious, carpeted chambers with large, plush beds. The marbled counter of Beau and Jester’s immaculate bathroom was now cluttered with Jester’s art supplies and disguise kit.

After the group agreed that they needed a hot bath and a long sleep before anything else, the first morning in the city dawned on the refreshed Nein. Once Beau and Yasha had mundanely altered their appearances, they’d begin “sightseeing” in the Candles. On the walk through the city last night they’d had to push past dozens of wide-eyed tourists staring up at the grand architecture, so hopefully their reconnaissance of Ikithon’s tower would attract little attention.

Done tracing her lips with a dark, purplish black shade that, for an instant, made her look frighteningly like her mother, Beau reached back to loosen her hair from its bun. Shaking her undercut out and parting the dark strands so they fell evenly to frame her face - the ticklish hair on her cheek already irritating her - she sighed and turned to Jester. “What d’you think? Different enough?” 

Jester, who had been occupying herself by carving a bar of hand-soap into the shape of an archway, looked up at her with wide eyes and an expression Beau couldn’t interpret - as if she had swallowed something too quickly. “Oh - wow! Super… different!”

Beau sighed. “I look older, don’t I? It’s being caked in makeup that does it.” 

“No, it looks good,” Jester was quick to reassure, coming up behind her in the mirror. “You look beautiful!” 

“You don’t have to say that. It’s just a disguise.” 

“I mean it. I mean - I like the real Beau more, of course. But, um, it’s a good disguise, too.”

“Hm.” Well, she had to say that, it didn’t mean anything. They both regarded their reflections for a moment. “Could I borrow one of your tops?” Beau asked.

Jester blinked. “Of course! Why?”

Beau stuck her tongue out and flexed her biceps in the mirror. “‘Cause I’m still gonna stick out if I don’t cover up these puppies. And I don’t have anything with sleeves, ‘cause -”

“-Sleeves are bullshit!” Jester finished for her, smirking. “Hang on, I have something perfect.” 

She dived into her haversack, pulling out and chucking over her shoulder a ridiculous stream of colourful garments from the tiny bag. “Here! This will look cute with your lipstick. And it’s getting harder to button it on my baaaaaby bump anyway.” Thrusting something purple at Beau, she drummed her stomach, which was indeed protruding enough now to be evident with clothes on. 

Beau pulled on the purple thing, a sparkly cardigan with a girly fit, tucking in at the waist, though a little baggy for her frame. It was weird. She hadn’t dolled up like this since the last time she indulged one of her parents’ soirees, and fuck knew that was a long time ago. All this… it wasn’t her. But she was so _ sick _of being her that she almost enjoyed it.

She turned back to Jester, put on a smile. “Let’s go.” 

*

It was an overcast day in the capital, but even grey skies couldn’t dull the shine of the Candles as the Mighty Nein, incognito, stopped in the middle of the street to gawk at the staggering height of the skyscrapers before them, no pretense necessary. Up close, they weren’t just individual towers, but each had its own enclave of smaller buildings around the base where, according to Caleb, the relevant Assembly member’s staff or family lived, though Beau imagined the towers themselves could easily house fifty people. 

Each had its own unique design aesthetic - wizards got passionate about that sort of thing, she supposed - with the Martinet’s tower of obsidian being the central and tallest, according to a droning tour guide they spent a few minutes listening to. But the home of the Archmage of Civil Influence was an unadorned and seemingly windowless cylinder of stark white stone. Beau had never seen stone so white. There was something creepy about it, the lack of weathering or age that a grand building should have, like every imperfection had been bleached away by force. 

Caleb had barely spoken two words, but was far from reluctant as he led the group there with military insistence, marching through the streets of Rexxentrum without hesitation, as if following an internal homing beacon. _ Ha_. Beacon.

Now, in the guise of a younger, paler man with close-cropped dark hair, he stood with arms folded, staring up at the building while they waited for a group of bickering schoolchildren to disperse from the front gates. Jester, true to her vow, had obtained an enormous box of gourmet donuts, and was offering them around forcefully to counteract the tension. Licking icing sugar off her fingers, Beau had to admit it helped a bit. 

“Look like you remember?” Fjord asked Caleb in a low voice. Even though Fjord looked sufficiently unlike himself, having shifted his appearance to a long-haired half-elf, he’d also reverted back to his old fake drawl. Man, he really just enjoyed the theatrics, didn’t he?

Caleb nodded. “Everything is consistent with my memory and the blueprints.” His voice was devoid of any inflection. 

“You still here, Nott?” Beau asked very quietly, looking around her for signs of the invisible goblin despite how illogical that was. 

_ “Beau, if you’re talking to me, I just jumped the fence so I won’t hear you. Just reply to my messages! If you’re just muttering to yourself, stop that. You look weird. You can reply to this message.” _

Beau snorted and nodded, indicating to the others that they should wait for word. They’d decided it would be best if Nott, while invisible, did as much outside reconnaissance of the building as possible on a first pass: taking note of any hidden entrances, signs of traps, how easy it was to hear the inside, and so on. There were no guards posted, or even signs saying not to approach; the ornamental front gate would be easy for anyone to climb, altogether a suspicious lack of security, which was precisely why they were treating it with caution. With Nott’s stealth, they’d figured it was safest that she was the only one to get close right now.

As Beau leant against the wall, scanning around for anyone looking their way, Nott’s voice buzzed in her head. _ “I’ve done a loop, and, er, problem one - there’s no door! You can reply to this message.” _

Beau put her hand up to her mouth, pretending to scratch her nose, feeling more daring and spy-like than she cared to admit, and covertly replied. “Ah, shit. Should’ve guessed. Must be like Yussa’s tower. Ok, hang on, I’ll ask the others.”

Explaining the issue to the group, Caleb didn't know how the enchantment on Yussa's tower worked. "It seems to just manifest from invisibility, so it is some type of illusion, I assume... but I doubt something so simple that a Dispel Magic would solve it. If the magical wards have taught us anything, Ik- that man would not rely on something that any caster could circumvent so easily." He scratched his neck.

"But hey, you know who would know? Yussa!" said Jester suddenly. "We can just ask him how to undo his spell! I'll message him-"

"Wait, don't cast in the middle of the street!" Fjord hissed.

Jester held her hands up. "...I was _ going _to say, as soon as we get back to the hotel," she protested. 

Beau wasn't sure how true that was, but, already out of other options, they obligingly trudged back to their lodgings. 

"Hiiii, Yussa! How are you? This is Jester. So! How does your magic door work? We need to get inside an evil wizard's tower and we figured - oh, balls!" Jester sighed and flopped back on her bed, recasting. Beau, snickering from her own bed, obligingly held up her fingers to fulfil Fjord's usual role. "Ahem! We figured you probably use the same... door spell. If you could tell us how to get in... it would be super cool." Seeing Beau's one remaining finger, her eyes widened at the pressure. "...Loveyoubye!"

Beau watched in careful quiet as Jester stretched her left leg up above her, scratching her kneecap aimlessly as she listened to the reply. Finally she pouted, turning to Beau. "Ugh. He says he adapted his spell from another one so it's special anyway, but even if not, you just can't open the door from the outside unless you have permission from the caster. And you can't dispel it... obviously. Ugh!"

Beau sighed. "So we gotta get ourselves invited in."

"Why is this so hard?" Jester whined. "Well... I _ guess _it's only been one day. Should I update Essek that we're having technical difficulties, maybe?"

"Uh... nah, y'never know. Maybe tomorrow we'll crack it."

"Yeah! Maybe." Jester, one leg still stuck up in the air, stared up at her own foot for a while in absent thought, blew a long raspberry for no apparent reason, then rolled over again, her fingers twirling into Sending once more. "Hi Mama! How are things? I think my feet are getting bigger. Is that normal? Should I buy new shoes? I love you! Tell Nugget I love-"

*

But it wasn't to be tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after. The simple roadblock of the tower door proved to flummox the Mighty Nein thoroughly enough that Beau wondered why exactly they had hurried here and thought something would happen. For despite the internal wards and alarms Caleb had learnt to shut down, and despite the endlessly cycling new disguises they would trot out each day, attempting to vary the times and numbers in which they patrolled so nobody would be able to detect a pattern - it didn't matter how sophisticated or brusque an approach they might take to getting inside until they worked out _ how _to do just that.

At least they were able to be fairly honest with Essek about this fact when Jester sheepishly messaged him after the end of the first week, admitting to the further stall in their progress. After all, even if the Dynasty's armies did decide they'd tired of waiting and wanted to storm the city, they would still face the exact same problem (for it was unlikely any of the Candles could be felled by brute force alone).

There was_ Dimension Door, _ but, as with the Tidepeak when they'd first encountered it, the number of things that could potentially go wrong were far too great - especially when the spell necessitated only Jester and one passenger. And Ikithon, of course, could not be scried on, as Caleb reminded them, twisting his amulet between his fingers. Nobody ever seemed to go in or come out; Fjord checked for invisibility when he could, but by all impressions, Ikithon's tower stood abandoned and impenetrable.

"Do you think it's time to try spying on the other buildings on his estate?" Yasha asked, two weeks into this stasis, as she tore a chunk of ham off the bone with her teeth over a quiet dinner, the Nein cramped in Fjord and Cad's room like sardines (the hotel staff had accepted, with polite puzzlement, their habit of taking most of their meals all together in seclusion). "They might not be as highly guarded. We might learn something from the people he keeps close to him, you know?"

Caleb shook his head immediately. "Too risky. He has no family. He probably -" he glanced sharply at Beau and Nott for one second then veered off. "Anyway, I would bet my nose that those picturesque cottages are crawling with Vollstreckers. They are trained to do exactly what we are doing, but better. Not worth the risk."

Yasha frowned, looking unconvinced. "But we surely have to do something different at this point."

Jester put her fork down, thinking as she chewed a mouthful of greens. "Okay, I know we cannot go into the school, but what if we waited until he comes out then pretend to be students? And then we like, drop a pile of books in front of him like oops, clumsy me! _ Ooh, Professor Icky Thong, thank you sooo much for helping me! Oh my gosh, can I come to your house?"_

Beau snickered, nearly choking on her beer. "Yeah, like, _I'm suuuper patriotic and susceptible to ideology_, _by the way!_ _Anyway, can I help you stack your papers?_"

It earned a few chuckles, but Caleb wasn't laughing. "That would not work," he said gravely. "I am telling you we cannot approach him directly."

"Okay, like, look, I get it, I get why, and obviously we wanna avoid any chance of contact with him - but we are planning to invade the dude's house, Caleb. We have to think about facing him eventually." Beau tried to sound gentle, but it probably just came out condescending. What she didn't say was _ I know you're scared and I know you don't want to and I know this is shitty and unfair. _

"Fine." Caleb didn't look at her. "_Ja_, okay, we must. But that does not mean we should be foolhardy and invite our own destruction by introducing ourselves to our enemy." He stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork so hard the plate squeaked, causing everyone to cringe.

Quiet fell upon them again, a few minutes of uneasy chewing.

“It’s fine,” said Nott, glancing around, her eyes resting on Jester. “We’ll work something out.”

*

Beau was mad at herself that she didn’t see it coming, really; Nott was a terrible liar, and she had that shifty way of asking questions that made it extremely plain when she was hiding something. But Beau and Caleb had been distracted at the time. It was a warm day for the northern empire; spring was starting to hint at summer, trees were flowering, the streets were full of chatter, the Academy students were all obnoxiously preoccupied with their upcoming final exams, and for the first time, a face Caleb recognised had passed by the front gate of the tower.

At first Beau hadn’t noticed the dwarf, who didn’t particularly stand out aside from her race - a middle-aged woman with a ruddy complexion, bulbous nose, and braided straw-coloured beard, dressed in plain, undecorated mage’s robes. But Caleb stiffened, nudging Beau and turning to mutter: “That is Edrid Blackriver.” 

“Huh? Who now?” 

“Headmistress of the School of Conjuration.”

“You know her, Cay-cay?” whispered Nott, standing invisibly between them. 

“Well, I know of her. I have heard her speak. I do not know her. She has been part of the Academy for a long time. I remember she seemed quite austere. As far as I know she plays by the books… and is not affiliated with the Assembly.” He spoke without looking at either of them, quickly and quietly. “Which makes me wonder what exactly she is doing here.”

Blackriver took a moment to pause, stopping in amongst the currents of crowds on the wide street and looking up at the white tower with hands on her hips. But it was only for a moment, and then she carried on walking.

“Huh,” frowned Beau. “What was that about?”

“Who can say?” Caleb shrugged. “Well, let us keep watching.” 

“Hey, what did you say her name was?” Nott piped up.

“Hm? Blackriver, Edrid Blackriver.”

“And she’s the head what now?”

“Headmistress of Conjuration,” he replied. “Why? It does not look like she is stopping here.”

“No reason,” Nott replied mildly, then made an odd noise which, without being able to see her, it took Beau a moment to recognise as a large yawn. “Ooh, I’m getting tired of standing still. I might pop into an alley and disguise myself then do some shopping. Need to get some supplies. You guys mind?” 

“Nah, you go ahead. Hey, was that dude here yesterday?” Beau asked Caleb, and they quickly became caught up in examining tourists again.

It was only after they had returned home, some hours later when the sky was almost dark, that they began to wonder where Nott was. None of the others had seen her all day, and although Caleb didn’t say it, he was obviously starting to worry. Jester offered to send a message, but Beau countered that she should save her spell slots until they’d checked the tavern around the corner, already a favourite of their goblin.

However, as Caleb wrapped his scarf around himself in the hotel hallway, the front door swung open - and Edrid Blackriver burst into the entryway, slamming the door shut behind her, gasping for breath. Caleb and Beau both froze as she spoke in a familiar, creaky voice: 

“Phew! Shit. Okay, I don’t think anyone followed, but I ran out of invisibility at the last minute.” Seeing their reactions, her rosy face blanched - then melted away, Nott’s smaller, bonier stature replacing the illusion. 

“Where have you _ been?_” Caleb hissed, then glanced around to where the hotel’s doorman was peering over his desk with a frown. “No, not here.”

“Sorry, sorry for the disturbance. Not going out after all, haha. Sorry!” Beau held her hands up apologetically as Caleb practically frogmarched Nott up the stairs, where Jester’s anxious face was peeking over the banisters.

“Oof, just let me catch my breath… listen, it’s all fine, we’re not in any trouble!” Nott assured them. Fjord and Caduceus poked their heads out of their respective rooms as well, Yasha opening her door to let them into hers and shutting the window. Nott flung herself onto the bed and exhaled. “Listen, I just tried a little bit of reconnaissance, and it took longer than I expected. I’m sorry if I worried you.” 

“But why were you disguised as that teacher woman? What were you doing?” Beau pressed, seating herself on the floor. 

Nott looked at Jester, then, resigned, said “I guess we’d better tell them.”

“What? Tell us what?” Fjord looked between them, as did Beau, who had one wild moment of horrid suspicion, before remembering that Nott was probably the most heterosexual person she’d ever met. 

Jester sighed, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Okay, so…first of all, Caleb, please don’t be mad because when we first wrote to her we had no idea who she was, and we were just trying to reconnect you with your lady friend, okay? So…” 

One extremely uncomfortable explanation later, the party sat blinking in collective disbelief. 

Caleb, whose face seemed completely drained of blood, calmly asked, “So you received this invitation from... from Astrid.” The name sounded like ashes on his tongue. Like the first word spoken after a ten-year vow of silence. “And... how does this relate to your disappearance today?”

Nott, who was now sitting up, jostled uncomfortably. “Well. Jessie and I sort of thought - we understand you want to play it safe, we do. And we knew you wouldn’t be in favour of anyone hitting up Astrid. But we just thought that having her address could be a _ really _ good lead, so we figured we’d wait until we had a nice safe person to disguise ourselves as, somebody who, you know, she would probably know, but not terribly well. And then we’d just - pop by, and pretend we just wanted a chat, but then drop in some questions about Ikithon’s schedule for schooly, teachery reasons, like, _ ooh that man is _ so _ hard to get hold of! Do you know when he’s home and when he’s at work? _

“...Obviously I wasn’t _ that _transparent, and I did a good dwarven accent, I practised beforehand, so… I figured… it was worth a go.” Even as she finished nonchalantly, Nott was sweating.

“And she found you out,” Fjord stated flatly.

“Well - I don’t know, but we made some polite conversation, then she said she had to step away for a moment and… she was so hard to read, but I just got a bad feeling. So I turned invisible and snuck out of the room and she was striding down her front path away from the house. I - I don’t know, maybe she just remembered she had to pick up eggs! But I thought it was probably time to go, so I legged it. But I think her servant saw me opening the front door and… I think I bumped Astrid maybe by accident as I went, so -” Nott winced. “Anyway! I made sure to zigzag a lot, just in case she was tracking me somehow, and I went in and out of buildings, and then I realised my spell was fading so I just ran all the way here, and, well, now here I am - but I think it’s fine, really!” 

Fjord and Caduceus had both stood up in unison, Fjord’s eyes flashing as he summoned his sword and cast _ See Invisibility, _and Caduceus pressing his face to the window, peering around. 

“...Nothing,” said Fjord.

“I think we’re good,” confirmed Caduceus. “Nobody on the street.” 

Nott sighed in relief. Caleb remained still, staring at the floor. 

Yasha cleared her throat. “So... you spoke to her, then. Did you… get anything?”

Nott shook her head. “No, just small talk. She was pretty icy.” She looked up, then, at Caleb. “Oh - and she was very beautiful!”

It was like the spark he needed to jerk into furious motion, sitting up and curling his hands into claws, expression an awful grimace as he spat the words: _ “Spinnst du eigentlich - _ I cannot believe this! I _ cannot _believe you are this stupid.”

“Caleb, don’t say that!” Jester burst out, a heartbreaking crack in her voice. Nott only looked ashamed. 

“I will say it! I must say it - is this worth dying for? For the gods’ sake, Nott, this stupid mission, it is only politics - we didn’t know, none of us knew where you had gone, and nobody could have helped you if you were imprisoned or killed - how could you be so careless?” He stood up, clutched his head. “So you wrote to Astrid, just tell me! I cannot judge you, you know that I cannot judge you, but if you had _ told _ me I could have warned you how sharp that woman is. And now she knows something is up, and she will tell him, I assure you. You cannot do something like this - you could have ruined it all, and we could have lost you, Nott! _ I _could have lost you.”

“I’m sorry,” said Nott in a very small voice. 

Nobody spoke.

“We should lay low tomorrow.” Caleb’s arms dropped. “Nobody goes out. Just in case.”

“That sounds sensible,” said Caduceus carefully.

Caleb stalked out of the room.

“Can…” Nott’s pupils had shrunk, her yellow eyes vast as moons in her little head. She looked up at Yasha. “Can I sleep here tonight? I… I’ll give him the room.” Her ears were flat to her skull. 

“Of course,” said Yasha gently.

Caduceus and Fjord shared a look and quietly left.

Beau stood up. Her arms were tense and cold; goosebumps had risen along them. She looked at Jester, who was crying silently. She didn’t seem to notice Beau, settling onto Yasha’s bed and enveloping Nott in a cradling hug. Nott leaned her head onto Jester’s shoulder. 

So Beau left too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for another downer ending oops.. this chap was originally VERY long so i have had to split it. not my favourite, but more cute scenes next time!
> 
> also i can't remember when in canon everyone found out about the letter to/from astrid, but i'm deciding in this version that nott and jester decided not to tell anyone abt the reply they received, for the reasons outlined :0


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With an unexpected message comes a new development, for both the Nein's schemes and somebody else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: a little bit of self-blame for how her parents treated her from Beau, though not in detail

The next few weeks passed like ice drifting on a river, slowly thawing. There was no arrest, nor assassins coming after them. They returned to their lookout schedule. Caleb apologised stiffly to Nott and they seemed, in their own way, to quietly forgive each other, but the tense atmosphere in the group didn’t entirely dissolve, everyone walking a little more on eggshells. Within the Nein, it could become easy to think that they had a magic trick for any situation, no matter how tight a spot. Caleb’s outburst had reminded them all that they were mortal. 

Beau didn’t ask Jester why she hadn’t told her about the letter. She got it - her and Nott, they had their thing, their little schemes. She liked to think she would have told them what a stupid-ass idea it was if she had been let in on it - but honestly, knowing how easily Jes could sweep her away with a plan, maybe it was better she’d been ignorant too. 

Still, Nott and Jester were both taking things with a little more sobriety (well, Nott was drinking more than ever, but figuratively speaking). Jester’s nightly talks with the Traveler became quieter and less animated, and although Beau tried to make it clear that she wasn’t listening in (reading her book with all the more intensity, seeming as distracted as possible) she heard snippets of the questions Jester had for her god. More and more they had changed from whimsical to practical. _ If we get the Beacon back, do you think the war will definitely end? How long exactly can you hold someone from dying before I can get to them with a diamond? Is there anything else you can do if I don’t have one? Does Yeza worry about Nott a lot? _

Her nightly _ Sending _messages, too, previously so colourful, were becoming more rote as the days went on. First her mother, then the Gentleman, and occasionally Essek, a standard set of reassurances and questions, so that after a while Beau didn’t have to try so hard to be caught up in her book. 

It was one such night that Beau sat running a comb through her hair, staring at the patterns on the wallpaper. They’d been in this hotel for weeks on end now, so she was deep in mental calculations about how much gold they were spending. Jester, tucked up in bed with her notebook on her knees, fished Sprinkle out from her collar and set him on the pillow next to her as she rattled off a message. “Hi Dad! Me again. Any news about Trent? We would love it! Hope you’re having fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Love you, byeeee.”

Sprinkle had settled into a circle and was chittering crossly to himself. Beau, amused, fished around in her pocket for bacon to give him, and only when she leaned over did she register that Jester had sat up in bed stock-still, and was staring at _ her_. 

“Holy shit. Beau, he said - Okay, wait, hang on, I don’t know if I heard him right-”

“Wait, what? What did he-”

But Jester was already casting again as Beau spoke, fingers flying through the motions of the spell, and her face was fixed with such focus that Beau fell silent. A strange feeling rose in her stomach, a dread she had no time to examine before Jester was gabbling through the spell again. 

“Are you serious? Okay - repeat that name - actually, can you read me the whole letter? Please - I’ll burn through all my spell slots. Please - okay -” As the spell dropped again, she sat up and fumbled around frantically for her notebook and pen before realising they were right in front of her. Sprinkle, offended by all the motion, evacuated under the bed. 

Beau, who had jumped to her feet, now stood like a lemon, not wanting to distract Jester as she scrawled the words the Gentleman spoke. Minutes passed, the scratching of her pen the only sound, apart from her intermittent casting to get the next reply; only saying “Okay… got it… and then?” 

Jester not wanting to use her entire word limit was strange enough that Beau was really worried now. She couldn’t read the messy handwriting at this angle, so, unable to stand the waiting alone, she ran out and knocked on everyone’s doors until the entire party, in various states of sleepiness, had gathered around Jester’s bed, silent watchers exchanging glances of concern.

Finally, after what must have been five or six re-castings, she put down the pen. “...Okay. Thank you, dad. Please hold that letter, don’t send it, or - maybe do, I’ll, um, I’ll message you tomorrow! I’m out of spells. Thanks.” She swallowed, then finally looked up at them all.

“...Well?” asked Fjord frantically, arms crossed in front of his bare chest. “What the hell did Beau just wake us all up for; what did he say?”

“Um - it’s a letter they intercepted… a letter to Trent... I’ll just read it out.” She took a deep breath, and looked at Beau again with an expression that she couldn’t understand - until a few moments later, anyway.

_ “Dear Master Ikithon, _

_ I was incredibly flattered by your letter of interest, and please pass on my gratitude to Baroness Iresor for referring you our way. _

_ It would be our honour to cater for your Highsummer gathering. My personal recommendation would be our finest 815 red. Matured in oak before bottling, it is a rich, full-bodied vintage, with notes of black cherry and a faint spiced aroma, as well as the tangy minerals distinct to the Kamordah region; particularly sumptuous when paired with rare steak. _

_ For 200 bottles, the total would ordinarily come to 2,400 gold, but for a client of your esteem we would be pleased to offer a discounted price of 2,000 gold. _

_ If this is agreeable, I will be happy to arrange delivery at your convenience. _

_ Hoping this finds you well, _

_ Very humbly yours, _

_ Thoreau Lionett (Owner and Master Vigneron) _

_ Lionett Wines.” _

Jester put her notebook down, and Beau figured out her expression at last - something between trepidation and pity. She felt the eyes of the room on her in the silence. 

Finally, she let out a snort. “‘_Master Vigneron_’. Pretentious asshole. And he’s marked that price way up. Two thou for the 815? Who is he kidding?” 

“That’s your dad, Beau?” asked Yasha quietly.

“Yeah.” She looked around. They all looked bleak and frightened, so she made herself smile. “Guys, this is _ good _. This is a lead! We can use this! Jes, tell the Gentleman he’s the best.”

“I will tomorrow! But - Beau, you’re not… is it really okay for us to involve your parents in this?”

“It sounds like Beau’s father is already involved, however tangentially,” said Caleb, looking keenly at her. She could practically see the gears in his head beginning to turn. “Do you think that we could use this, then, if we reached out to your parents?”

“And are you ready to reach out to them?” asked Caduceus gently

Beau sat down on her own bed, her left leg shaking frantically, unable to stop it. “Doesn’t matter if I’m ready or not, guess it’s gotta happen. This is what we’ve been waiting for, you guys. We got a date, old Trent’s havin’ a Highsummer party! And that’s like three months from now, that’s time to organise. Let’s go tomorrow - we’ll interrogate my dad to get what he knows. And if he won’t tell us, I can just rifle through all his shit. And then when the day comes-”

“-We poison all the wine!” Nott finished gleefully.

“Er, maybe not that,” said Fjord. 

“But this is something.” Beau looked at Jester and forced a grin. “It’s something!”

“Well. We are not getting anywhere here, so… I guess we are going to Kamordah, then,” said Caleb, bewildered. “But first, I think, to sleep.”

He reached towards Beau as if to - she didn’t know, hug her? - but aborted at the last minute, and instead patted her stiffly on the shoulder. The party trooped out of the room, all looking back at Beau like they expected her to blow up.

Once the door had shut, Jester turned towards her, sighing and snuggling into her pillow. “Man. Hey, are you really okay? I thought you would be upset.” 

“I don’t really know,” Beau answered honestly, exhaling. “I would’ve thought so too. But like… I’ve been so sick of hanging around waiting for something to happen here. Y’know, we haven’t had a _ fight _in like, over a month. Guess I’ve got so much pent-up energy, I’m actually hyped to punch my dad in the throat. ...Not really. ...Probably.” 

Jester smiled. “Well, I am super sleepy. All that casting took it out of me. But... I’m glad you’re not upset. And if you wanna punch your dad, I won’t stop you.” 

“Thanks, Jes.”

It took a long time for her to feel tired, even as she was aware of night folding into the early hours of the morning. Her brain was electric with thoughts, suppositions, and questions. Feelings, too - vulnerable, raw, teenage feelings that threatened to surge up from deep down in the pit of her stomach. 

She could no longer avoid confronting the reality that she had a brother too now, she realised. How old would he be? She didn’t know. A toddler, presumably. Littler than Luc. Damn. It was impossible to imagine her mother acting like a _ mother, _cooing and bouncing an infant on her knee, enduring the crying and the mess. Eh, they probably had a nanny for all that. 

And her dad obviously hadn’t changed a bit. She could see him clearly, upstairs in his office painstakingly penning this sycophantic letter, fantasising about the piles of gold he’d be making, without the slightest knowledge just who he was making a deal with - 

“Oh!” Jester squeaked.

She had sat up very suddenly, posture tense, held in one spot, and Beau snapped back to awareness and looked wildly around the room for an intruder. But there was none, only Jester in the light of the almost burnt out candle, whose eyes had taken on a wide focus of startled concentration. 

“What? What is it - is someone messaging you?” Beau whispered urgently. Immediately her mind conjured, unbidden, the image of her parents’ house bursting into flame, a dispassionate Scourger standing watch.

“No! No, it’s…” Jester whispered too, and held herself strangely, keeping her body perfectly still as she shifted and peeled the covers off her torso with stiff arms. Her hands rested just above where her midriff, now an unmistakably raised bump, poked out from her nightshirt. “It - I thought I - ooh! Oh my gosh, Beau, come over here! Come quick!” 

She was smiling, flushed with surprise, beckoning frantically while keeping her body still. Beau approached, daintily crossing the room on quiet tiptoes, not knowing what she was supposed to be seeing. But as soon as she was in touching distance, blue hands seized her own, and Jester pressed Beau’s palm delicately, painfully delicately, onto the cool swell of her exposed stomach. 

For a long moment there was nothing, just Beau touching Jester in the darkness, holding her breath. 

Then - like a muscle twitching, like a leaping heartbeat - something moved under her palm. 

Beau gave a little gasp without meaning to. Jester laughed twice, short and sharp, body hitching as she tried to keep still; as if her moving too much might somehow startle it away. 

“Holy shit,” Beau whispered. She had one knee on Jester’s bed, one foot still on the floor; a strange halfway point between resting her full weight on either. “Was that the first?” 

“Yeah, the first kick.” Jester finished for her, breathless. “I - oh!” 

“Oh shit, there it goes again!” 

It was slight, very slight - like touching the surface of a pool, Beau thought, and feeling a fish flipping and tumbling far below, even though the water didn’t break or ripple - just the most muffled, tiny motion. 

“You were waiting until now, huh?” Jester said softly. “To say hi?” 

Beau laughed too now, not sure what they were laughing about. She could see Jester’s white teeth in the darkness. 

“Well, hi. Hi, my baby. Hi, my little baby. Hi.” Jester didn’t put on a silly voice. She put her hand next to Beau’s. “Oh wow, it feels so weird on both sides!” There was another kick. 

“Should I - like, should I wake the others again?” Beau asked, though she had no idea why. It seemed logical. 

“Um, no, I think it’s okay, I mean... they’re probably all asleep now. We can tell them in the morning, just - I wanted you to feel. While it’s still happening.” 

“I’m glad. Shit. Hello, little thing. You’re already feisty, huh?” 

She stroked the surface of Jester’s stomach once, then immediately stopped, wondering if that wasn’t a very strange thing to do. Her flesh was so cool to the touch, not like anyone else. Beau remembered that. It had been a while since touching her. Cool and smooth and soft. Sitting here now in the dark, it was hard to remember what they were, what might be permitted. 

They sat without words, waiting for another kick to come. But it didn’t. 

Beau’s eyelids were heavy. “Long ride tomorrow,” she said, and made herself pull her hand away and rise. 

“I’m glad you were here for that, Beau.” 

She couldn’t really make out Jester’s expression in the darkness. But her voice was small and soft. Beau didn’t know what to think. “I am too,” she replied, and went back to her own bed.

*****

Leaving Rexxentrum without having achieved what they came here to do felt furtive, like running away from a crime, though in fact the Nein had done nothing wrong in the city, save perhaps excessive loitering. But the hotel staff were clearly bewildered by their oddest clientele's sudden departure the next day, loading up their packs onto their horses for them with a stiff politeness that was somehow judgemental, so that Jester made a point to tip excessively.

"More than generous of you, madam," said the doorman as she pressed the sack of gold into his hands, though his face didn't move. "And may I wish you the very best of luck in your onward journey."

"You may!" she said cheerfully, holding Yasha's shoulder to jump up into Sugarlump's saddle. At least the horses were all looking happier after their stay in the Shimmer Ward stables, manes brushed and shining. As the party began trotting through the main streets back towards the southern gates, Jester turned around once out of earshot to say "Gosh, I've never been called _ madam _before!" with a touch of indignance.

"Get used to it, kiddo," Nott told her. "As soon as I started showing with Luc, everyone in Felderwin started talking to me like I was a grown woman. Even people I went to school with!"

"Well, you are grown women, both of you," said Caleb. "I do not see what is so unusual about that."

"Sure, but I didn't suddenly know what I was doing just because I was knocked up. I was still only twenty! And this would come from the same people who always talked down to me before."

"I definitely don't know what I am doing..." said Jester, a thoughtful finger to her lip. "If I am giving anyone that impression, I need to change things."

"It's the bump speaking for you, nothing to be done," said Nott airily, pausing from braiding her hair to pull her horse to halt as they stopped at a crossroads. "And once it gets bigger, some people will just talk to it and act like you're only an incubator. That's when you kick them in the shins."

"Got it. Oh - kicking! We didn't tell you guys yet!" And as they exited the city gates, the surrounding mountains dominating the landscape in their full majesty once again, Jester regaled the party with the newest development. Nott cooed in delight, but Yasha reacted with alarm until informed that babies were supposed to kick (one of many things that made Beau silently wonder just what exactly Yasha's upbringing had looked like).

Fjord caught his horse up to Beau's as the Amber Road spread out wide enough for them to trot beside each other. "Have you ever travelled this way before?" he asked lightly.

“Nah, never went as far as Rexxentrum," Beau shrugged. "My dad would take work trips there sometimes, but me and mom stayed at home. Couple times when I was older he asked me along, trying to get me interested in the business. I did wanna see the city, but I didn't wanna spend like three days on a road trip with my fucking _ father _for company." She laughed awkwardly, and at that point realised everyone else was listening in; although Caduceus at the head of the herd didn't turn around, his telltale ears were pricked, and the rest were openly paying attention.

Nott cleared her throat. "Okay, so. Beau. Before we get to your place. Your dad - total dickhead. Your mum - not much better, as I understand it. Are they going to, like, scream at you as soon as we get there? What’s the play on how we’re reacting to this? Do we ignore it? Do we kill them?"

"I think there are a few steps in between those two," said Caduceus.

Beau snorted. "Uh. Pass? Well, they're not gonna yell. Probably. They were always more like… passive-aggressive, so you feel guilty for being the unreasonable one. But I'm pretty sure they still think I'm in Zadash doing monk shit, so they might be surprised. Oh, I guess I could say this is for a Cobalt Soul mission?" she realised. "My dad definitely won't be happy about his business deals being messed with. That might get... strained. But if we're using the Lionett name as our way in, I guess I gotta win him round to it. So no murder."

She looked up, focusing on the road ahead, and squared her shoulders. "I don't think my dad would like, turn us in or anything. He's not that evil, he's just... plain, mundane shitty. But even so, we tell 'em as little as possible about the real plan, 'cause if they knew the scale of this there is no way they'd agree to be involved. It's like that weird time with Avantika; we're just... working with people we'd rather not work with. Means to an end. I doubt they'll ask much anyway. They were never interested in my life before, why start now?"

“Then we will do our best to see it doesn’t end the same way as Avantika,” intoned Caleb grimly.

"Just remember that you don't owe them anything, Beau," said Yasha softly. "If they try to make you feel differently, then we'll be there to help remind you."

Her shoulders slacked a little. She couldn't meet Yasha's eyes or she'd lose her steel. It was hard to focus as all the little voices inside her stubbornly disagreed; that Yasha couldn't possibly understand how she _ did _owe them, and how she had failed them, scorned the privilege of her comfortable upbringing with her self-imposed angst. Even as she said these things about them, how could she really blame her parents for not doing a perfect job? Increasingly lately it was hitting Beau that this parenting shit didn't come with an instruction manual.

Yasha was still looking at her, she realised. "Yeah. Um. Thanks."

*

Over the next few days the journey dragged irritatingly, especially while they retraced their recent steps, back past the Eistus and down the Amber Road, the Druvenlode mountain range now on their left side, a familiar monotony in mirror image. But simultaneously it didn't feel long enough to mentally prepare herself; it crept up on her somehow, as the third morning dawned and they took the western fork along the Bromkiln Byway, and she realised that by this evening she would be home. If that was the word.

Here in the Truscan Vale there was less traffic, more fields, the countryside gently sloping up and down as the road edged around the southern base of the Cyrios peaks, towards the Bromkiln Hills. Herds of grazing livestock on the sheer mountainsides looked up and lazily watched them pass by. The smell of hay and dung mingled with that distinctive, mineral-rich Truscan earth scent that had saturated her childhood. Beau had never really noticed it until it was gone. 

The Nein had time to get their story straight while they travelled, as well as to decide what they would ask of Thoreau that would keep his involvement in their scheming minimal, but not risk arousing any suspicion on Ikithon's end. Beau highly doubted it would go over easy, but there were so many unknowns. Maybe they _ would _just slam the door in her face. 

“Are there places to stay in Kamordah, Beau?” Yasha inquired at that point, as if following her thoughts. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, there’s a bunch of inns.” She thought for a moment. “Though only a couple I’m not barred from. Might have to use up a disguise spell.” 

“Wait, you don’t think your parents will let us stay with them?” Despite everything she knew to be prepared for, Jester clearly hadn’t yet wrapped her head around the idea of a family home that wasn’t a harbour of unconditional welcome. 

Beau shrugged. “They might. I’m telling you guys, I seriously don’t know what’s gonna happen.” She then looked sidelong at Jester. “Um, even if they do, like… they are rich, but not Ruby-of-the-Sea-rich. We only got two spare rooms. Mm. I guess one might be the baby’s room now. Nah, they probably chucked my stuff out and used mine out of spite.” 

Sugarlump nickered a complaint as Jester yanked her reins in surprise, immediately petting the horse and whispering an apology, then turned her attention back to Beau. “Wait, what _ baby_?” she squeaked. 

Everyone’s eyes were on her once again, with only Fjord looking furtively away. “Oh.” Beau scratched her shoulder. “I, uh, forgot to mention that. Yeah, turns out they had another kid. I’m officially replaced, haha!” She tried for a sardonic, carefree grin, but didn’t know that it was that convincing. 

“Oh.” Jester bit her lip. “Oh, Beau...” 

It was that pity again that she couldn’t bear, twisted in Caleb and Nott’s faces as they looked at her and failed to think of anything to say. And she _ knew _ Jester couldn’t help her surging hormones, but she could tell she was on the verge of tears yet again, staring at Beau, violet eyes shining with sympathy. _ Fuck_, she couldn’t stand for her rich girl tragedy of a life to be the object of Jester’s boundless compassion. There were too many better deserving causes; Beau had burdened Jester enough for a lifetime.

She closed her eyes briefly, then sat up straighter in her saddle. “It’s whatever, seriously. I have literally zero feelings about the little squirt. Hey, I can almost see the town, c’mon! Sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.” 

The dark gabled roofs of the taller businesses and extravagant homes in Kamordah peeked over the crest of the last hilltop. Tugging the reins to nudge her steed into a quicker trot, she pushed to the head of the group. She just had to get out of her own head, tap into the blind, unthinking courage that enabled her to run in and pummel the shit out of eldritch monstrosities even as they tried to rip her in two. It would be the only way to get through this. Like ripping off a bandage. Quick, painful, and done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my favourite part of this writing process was getting to make up Wine Blurb Bullshit. 
> 
> finally getting to some scenes i've been planning for a long time (since before we met beau's family in canon, in fact)! thanks for reading & hope everyone is staying safe and well in these scary times.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau's overdue family reunion is off to an unpleasant start, as she meets her successor and tries to work with her parents for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings for this chapter: c2ep92 spoilers for beau's family - discussion/focus on parental abuse, as much as is present in beau's storyline in the show

Here in front of the dramatic, arching gates to her family’s estate, it was suddenly like she’d never left. Walking through town had been strange enough, but Beau truly felt temporally displaced now. She could be eight, eleven, seventeen again; on her way home after a day spent skipping school to smoke in the vineyards, hoping she could slip in, bypass the inevitable lecture from her parents, and get a maid to bring dinner to her room. 

As her friends looked around at the house’s exterior with obvious appreciation, and a low whistle of admiration from Nott, she could only be struck by how so much of the world was different now - yet nothing here reflected that. It was exactly the same; the white paint and clean wooden beams, the large but unimaginatively minimal yard with its expensive wilting plants in giant pots; all the performative trappings of the nouveau riche, void of any real personality.

But Beau had changed. Had _ been _changed, more than she knew was possible in so short a time. Now that she’d seen the world and had met people who’d give everything to make it better, it was so much clearer to her just what she’d always despised in this town, in what her parents had made of it - living only for what they thought success looked like. 

Well, who knew. Maybe they had changed too. But the plants were still wilting.

“Want me to knock?” It was Fjord, hand on her shoulder.

She drew up her shoulders and inhaled. “Nah. I got it.” So saying, she rapped loudly on the door before she could change her mind.

They waited, whispered discussions from the others behind her dropping quickly into silence.

The door opened. It was Jena, Beau recognised immediately; one of the maids who’d never liked her. “Can I help -” Her face drained of colour. “Miss Beauregard.” 

Beau forced herself to smile. “Hi.” 

*

"It's just that if you had written ahead, we would have had time to make better arrangements." Perched rigidly straight on the edge of her chair, bouncing Thoreau Jr. on her knee at an increasingly frenetic pace, Clara Lionett's tightly drawn eyebrows creased her forehead and betrayed the falsehood of her smile. "But of course, this is a lovely surprise."

"You said that three times already, Mom." Beau sprawled back into her armchair - they'd moved it from the fireplace to face the bay window, but the butt-dent still identified it as her old reading spot in this parlour.

Her mother ignored her completely, smiling beautifically at Caleb instead, who she'd somehow decided was the face of the group. "How nice to meet you all, Mighty - Nine, was it? But there are only -"

"Seven, yep, it's a thing."

"Nice to meet you too," piped up Caduceus, sounding like he at least might mean it. "It's fascinating to see where someone like Beau came from."

Perhaps feeling that was too ambiguous, Jester, who was in the other spare chair while the remaining five were squashed awkwardly together onto the sofa, quickly put in "He means someone as smart and cool as Beau!"

As Beau became very interested in the view outside, for fear of what her face might show at that, her mother's knee stopped bouncing, prompting a shriek of objection from TJ until the motion resumed.

Beau cleared her throat and nodded at him. "He’s a cute little fucker. Shit, I mean... Fuck."

Clara’s only response was to close her eyes briefly. TJ, though, who had been mortally shy at first introduction and hidden completely behind their mother's legs, was now looking at Beau with great interest. He _ was _cute, in a weird sort of way, with his big blue eyes and dark wisps of curly hair.

He now removed his fingers from his mouth to point them at Beau. "Who's dat?"

Clara went red, as if the directness of a two-year-old betrayed some failure on her part. "Remember, I told you this is your older sister Beauregard. Why don't you say hello?"

"Hey, little man," Beau ventured, waving a hand and leaning forwards.

TJ returned his fingers to his mouth and pressed his head into Clara's stomach.

"Oh, Thoreau!"

"It's cool." Beau chuckled and leaned back. "I have that effect on people."

"Do you mind if I say hello to him, Mrs. Lionett?" asked Nott, who had until now been trying to make herself very small in between Caleb and Yasha. "I love children."

Her mother looked flustered. "I - um, I'm not sure -"

"What, Mom? Is there some kind of problem with my dear friend talking to TJ?" asked Beau sweetly.

As she'd suspected, Clara's doormat nature won as she looked from Beau to the goblin and back again. "Well - of course not!"

Her brow creased with unease as she held TJ out towards Nott, who stood and took him carefully, though her muscles were obviously straining a little under the human-sized toddler's weight, his body as long as her torso. TJ's expression changed to open fascination as he took in the warty green visage before him. He didn't seem frightened, removing his sticky fingers from his mouth once again to reach for her long ears, before stopping short and hesitating. 

"Hi, TJ," Nott cooed softly, shifting to hitch his weight partially onto her hip. "I'm Nott. I'm your big sister's friend."

"Hi," he near-whispered.

"Nott is a mom as well," Beau informed Clara.

"Oh, really? How - how nice."

"Yeah, I've also seen her decapitate a man with one crossbow bolt," Beau continued nonchalantly just as Nott was handing the wriggling little boy back, causing Clara to nearly drop him in stifled shock. "Just shows, people really have layers, huh?" At that she became aware that Fjord was shooting her a look which clearly said '_ not helpful _'.

"I really don't want to hear about that sort of thing, Beauregard, and I think you know that," Clara informed her, her smile becoming more fixed as her irritation grew. "Why don't you tell me about your... studies?"

"Yeah, studies." Beau coughed. "Listen. That's actually why we're here. I-"

Before she could remember how she was trying to frame this, from outside in the hallway came a series of muffled clicks and then, as the front door swung shut, a man's exhausted sigh.

"Oh, your father's home!" If Clara's brows drew any closer together, they'd be surgically joined. "I'll just pop out and let him know you're here, he'll be so pleased..."

But any hope she had of trying to cushion the blow before Thoreau walked in were dashed by TJ, who jumped up and crowed "_ Daddy_!" with a joy so genuine that Beau could only wish him well for the limited time he'd have with it.

"Where's my little man?" boomed Thoreau. Even in that sentence, Beau could only hear how obnoxious and brash his voice must sound to her friends. Hated that hers must sound the same.

"Darling, just a moment-" Clara dithered and shrank as the parlour door swung open.

And there her father stood, arms ready and open to embrace his son. His brown eyes, always a little bloodshot, swiveled up and took in the room's occupants, mouth falling with undisguisable dismay in what almost seemed comic slow-motion. Were the lines in his brow always that deep, Beau wondered dispassionately - and had his hairline really receded so far?

Thoreau staggered, uprooted, as TJ waddle-ran across the room and jumped into his still-open arms. Catching his son only instinctively, her father's eyes roved briefly across the faces of her friends and his wife before drifting back to fixate on Beau. "Beauregard. You're... you're home." 

He made only the briefest attempt at looking pleased to see her before giving up, the smile sliding off his face as he set TJ down on the floor and patted his head distractedly. “Well, I can’t say this was expected, but… It’s great to see you. Of course. These are your friends?”

“The Mighty Nein,” Jester supplied, standing up and shaking his hand vigorously. Beau tracked his surprise as he took in _ blue _ then _ tiefling _ then _ pregnant_, just as her mother had, before he could even react to her behaviour. “We are Expositor Beauregard’s professional associates. Well, she is like, our boss, really.” She was still shaking his hand with some force. “You’re Thoreauregard, right? I’m Jester!” Smiling, she finally relinquished his grip. Beau hid her laughter in her hands as her father clenched and unclenched his likely now bruised fingers.

“I’m Fjord.” The half-orc stood up smoothly. 

“Er, _ hallo, _my name is Caleb Widogast…”

After the second round of introductions had been taken care of, Thoreau looked around for a spare seat. Finding none, he hovered uncomfortably. “Well. Can I get anyone a drink?”

“That’d be great, Dad. Actually, how ‘bout you uncork some of the 815 red?” Beau blinked innocently. “It _ is _a special occasion.”

“I - I’ll see what I can do.” He stepped outside and muttered a few words to one of the ever-hovering maids. (Beau could only imagine the rate at which gossip must already be spreading through the household staff, and who could blame them?) Coming back in, he ran a hand through his greying hair. “I’ve been very busy. I didn’t realise you were coming.”

“I didn’t say.” Beau wiped her nose. Her face felt weirdly stiff. “Look, Dad, we’re here on Cobalt Soul business.” 

“Ah. Yes, I hear congratulations are in order. Xeenoth told me you made Expositor - I understand that’s quite the achievement.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I’m so glad that you’ve found something you can really apply your talents to. I had a feeling this would work out.”

She had to marvel at the ways he always managed to take credit; avoid any real praise, let alone apologise. A hundred instant immature replies rose in her throat and she swallowed them. Here for a reason. “Mm-hm.”

Jena, looking as uneasy as when she’d opened the door, entered then with a deftly balanced tray of glasses and a bottle of 822 rosé, which Thoreau took and handed to Beau. "I'm afraid the 815 is all set aside for a large order. Would you like to do the honours?"

"Sure." She opened the bottle with her teeth, spitting the cork on the floor, and took a swig from the neck. Ugh, she forgot she hated this blend. It was way too floral, sickly sweet.

Her father winced with displeasure as she passed it back, and he took the tray from the maid, subtly dismissing her as he began to pour, passing around glasses. "None for yourself, I assume," he nodded to Jester.

"None for myself. Hey, thank you so much!" Jester turned around and tapped Jena on the shoulder, who gave a startled little bow before leaving.

"Lovely nose on this," said Fjord, swirling his glass awkwardly as he made a show of inhaling.

"Do I detect a hint of grape?" asked Nott, who was already halfway through hers.

"It's very nice," said Yasha, sounding genuinely surprised after one cautious slurp, holding her glass like a soup bowl.

Beau exhaled. "Caduceus. Can you tell if we have company?"

"I'm pretty sure most of the people in this house are gathered outside this door, yeah," he said cheerfully.

As both her parents looked startled, Beau snorted and stood up, sticking her head out of the door, where indeed three maids, the nanny and the cook all sprang guiltily back and tried to look nonchalant. "Okay, this ain't a show; 'fraid it's a private talk. Get moving," Beau told them. "If you wanna wait, I'll be sure to raise my voice when the actual drama starts so you can all catch it."

Her mother cleared her throat from behind her, where she had her toddler in her arms. "I think what Beau meant to say was - would you be so kind as to take Thoreau Junior up for his nap, Imelda?"

The nanny flushed and nodded as the other servants dispersed, and took TJ, who looked uncertainly back at his parents, sensing the strange atmosphere. He raised one chubby little arm and curled it in a wave at Beau. "Bye-bye."

"Bye-bye. See you later, dude," Beau told him, and didn't know why her voice got a little gruff. Imelda carried the still-staring boy upstairs.

Once they were alone, Beau turned around and shut the door firmly, folding her arms. "All right. As I'm sure you know, we're at war. I can't give you a lot of details, but the Cobalt Soul has been keeping tabs on certain individuals who we have good reason to believe are working against the crown's interests. One such individual is very powerful and difficult to get close to. We've intercepted a letter to him. From you, Dad." She met his eyes.

He stuttered. "Wh - from _ me _? What - Beauregard, I don't know what you're implying-"

She held up a hand and cut him off, trying to emulate how Dairon always spoke to her, cool and rapid and sure of herself. "Calm down. I'm not accusing you of anything. Though for future reference, that just there seemed super guilty. No, this is just a useful link to a hard-to-reach person. I'm going to need to see all the correspondence you've had with Trent Ikithon, and anything else you know about the gathering he's going to hold."

They'd decided to stick mostly to the truth, except in justifying it with Soul officiality - which made Beau, who preferred lying, a little uncomfortable. But she agreed it was better for consistency's sake, considering the party's track record at keeping their story straight. Now both her parents stared at her with such incredulity she wondered what the damn point was. Might as well have told her dad she'd arranged his marriage to King Dwendal.

"...You've read my letter to Master Ikithon? You’re _ spying _on a member of the Cerberus Assembly? Are you being serious?"

"Yes, Dad. That's literally my job now. I'm an Expositor. I exposit shit," Beau snapped. "If you're not happy about it you probably shoulda read up more on the people you paid to kidnap me, 'cause this is their modus operandi."

Thoreau opened his mouth to respond, but Caleb intervened first, standing up from the packed sofa and placing down his empty wine glass with a loud _ clink _ . "As Beauregard said, this is all on a need-to-know basis, _ Herr _Lionett. We are taking part in a larger investigation of a dangerous person, a person who has done very many terrible things - and you could provide useful intelligence to your country."

"Using your family's business like this seems very unprofessional. And you, what, you're all monks of the Cobalt Soul as well?" Thoreau's arms were now folded defensively in a mirror of her own, causing Beau to drop that posture as swiftly as if she'd seen a wasp on her arm.

"We are Beauregard’s associates, yes," Caleb hedged.

"We're in disguise as normal people," Jester said helpfully. "To be inconspicuous."

Thoreau eyed the Mighty Nein with a great deal more suspicion at this statement. "You're asking me to put my reputation at risk. How do I know this so-called investigation is legitimate?”

Beau ground her teeth. “Because I say it is.” Inhale. Exhale. Picture the beach. Find her inner calm. “Look, I can’t tell you everything, it’s for your own safety. You don’t have to get more involved.” 

“This is the Archmage of Civil Liberties you’re asking for confidential information on. I could get in a great deal of trouble.” Her father was now squinting at her like she was a door-to-door salesman trying to hawk Traveler pamphlets. “Look, Beau, haven’t you got any paperwork to prove that this is actually a Cobalt Soul operation?"

Beau couldn't take it. "_Paperwork _ ? Are you fucking - you know this is what I do, Dad, you sent me there - you can look at the lapel of my Expositor robes if you want, but imagine if you just believed me! _ Imagine _if just for fucking once you trusted your daughter's word!"

And there went her inner peace. Hadn't taken her long to fuck it up. She felt the tension in the room splinter, all eyes on her in the silence, as her frustration vibrated through every muscle in her body, until she was pulled taut as violin strings. 

She was too aware of her physical power, how easily she could hurt this man if she wanted. Though it was far from the first time she'd exploded at him, Thoreau stepped back as if he'd been struck.

"I think," said Clara, all ice, "That we should talk to Beauregard in private, please."

Beau looked around at the Nein, who were behind her where she stood. They were all looking back at her plaintively, and none of them moved. "Do you want us to leave, Beau?" asked Jester.

"I..." She was suddenly profoundly embarrassed and deflated. She shouldn't subject them to this. "I guess you should."

They began to stand up slowly and file out. Yasha touched her shoulder.

Jester, though, caught Beau’s hand as she passed and squeezed it. "Only if you want. Remember we're here to support you," she murmured, moving in close so her soft hair tickled Beau's cheek.

Beau sucked in her cheeks, so unable to physically react to Jester's closeness that she just stood rigidly still. But it had reminded her that she wasn't here alone. This was not the past and this place is no longer inescapable. Things had changed.

"...Y'know what, nah, fuck it. Don't go anywhere. Anything they wanna say to me, they can say in front of my friends." _ In front of my family. _

"Oh, gods, do you really want to do this with an audience, Beauregard?" muttered her father in the world-weary tone he used when he thought she was about to make a fool of herself.

She jutted her chin. "Yeah, I do."

"Then we'll stay right here," said Caduceus firmly, sitting back down, and the rest of the Nein followed suit. She met Jester's eye for a brief moment and saw her freckled cheek crease with the briefest proud smile. That smile could get her through this.

Clara rose. "Then maybe I should go."

"Sit down, Mom," Beau told her, eyes still on Jester, and, like the obedient subordinate she was, Clara sat.

Finally Beau looked back at Thoreau, only the two of them still on their feet.

"Fine, then. To answer your earlier point, I would trust my daughter implicitly if I still felt I could. If I hadn't found out my daughter was lying to me, even stealing from me, not just once but many times over. Unfortunately, that trains a man to be less trusting," he said evenly. "I know I haven’t done the best job. I regret that we parted on bad terms. I made mistakes, I’ll own that. But you might own yours too.” 

"I do. I did a bunch of stupid shit. Because I was a teenager. A kid." She could feel how hot her face was. "Your kid. I didn't ask to be yours."

"How you suffered, I'm sure. In the comfortable home I built for you. The legacy I built for you -" Thoreau began, and she had to cut him off.

"I'm fucking sorry I wasn't the kid you wanted, all right - wasn't the _ beau _you wanted." She could sense the confusion from her friends as she spat her name; realised she'd never told them that part. Well. Didn't matter now. "But you never gave me space to be who I actually was. I acted out because I was fucking suffocating here, Dad." Her nails were digging into her palms. "Sending me away was the best thing you ever did for me."

"I'm glad to hear it, Beau. I am. I'm really proud of you." He sounded sincere, then, and that made her pause. Thoreau's brow was still wrinkled with tension, but he'd unfolded his arms and looked her in the face. "You've made something great of yourself, without our help. We knew the Cobalt Soul was going to be for the best."

"No, I'm - hold on. It was still a really fucking shitty thing that you did."

His voice became hoarser. "Yes, it was unpleasant, but we were at our wit's end. We tried to be tolerant of your - your friendship with that girl, Tori. We worried she was using your position. But to find out you _ yourself _were behind the stealing-”

“Don’t.” 

“You wouldn't have gone away willingly. An intervention of sorts was needed, and it would have been painful no matter what. You must see that."

"But you didn't have to hit me, Dad," said Beau quietly.

There was silence, except for Jester's sharp intake of breath. She didn't look behind her.

"I regret that happening."

It was sheepish, stilted. He no longer met her eyes. She waited, and more didn't come. 

"Yeah, that's not a fucking apology."

Her mother piped up then, unexpectedly, her presence having shrunk in the room so much you could forget she was there. "Your father is really sorry for what happened, Beauregard. He's trying. Please meet him halfway."

Beau turned on her. "You don't have to cover up for him, Mom. Let him apologise, if he means it. You should say what you think! Why don't you ever say what _ you _think?"

"I don't know what I think right now, to be perfectly frank," Clara said mutedly. "This has all been a - a shock."

"You can't always be in the background being shocked. Sometimes you have to speak up." She didn't want to bring this up now, but felt it bubbling in her throat like bile. "You just stood there. You just stood there when Dad slapped me, when the monks shoved me into that cart, I - I needed you to do something, Mommy. And you did nothing."

Her voice caught there, hitching somewhere high in her throat. Clara's eyes, the same lagoon-blue eyes she'd given Beau, were shining with moisture too. She stood up, and put her arms stiffly around her.

They were of a height, Beau realised. She didn't know that she'd ever been aware of that before. 

Clara rested her head on Beau's shoulder. "I do love you," she whispered. "Please know that. I haven’t always gotten it right. But I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too," Beau said, and meant it. She just wished that they could do something with that love other than an immobile embrace. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. It didn’t change what her father did to them, didn’t make them more than they were.

She became aware of a faint droning whinge, which rose now into a wail like a wounded cat, punctuated by snivels. Oh. Further joys of parenthood.

Clara stepped back, sniffling once, and looked up at the ceiling. "I - I should probably see to Thoreau Junior."

"Okay." She thought for a moment about pressing it (as if for one minute her mom really needed to leave; they had a whole nanny for a reason) but decided to let her go.

Clara excused herself, and after they'd watched the door close, she was left with Thoreau. And the Nein, of course, all sat stiff and silent. Her poor captive audience.

Beau shook her head. "Anyway. Back to what we came here for. I'm gonna need any letters, Dad. And anything else you know. Trust me, I did not drag my friends here out of choice."

Thoreau sat down heavily in the chair Clara had vacated and shook his head in wonder. "You just... have no idea of the pain you've caused her, do you? The tears she's shed over you. I can't believe you would speak to your mother like that and then act as if nothing happened."

"I have every fucking idea!" Any hints of remaining tears in Beau's eyes now dried up in renewed outrage as she tightened her fists beside her and sucked in breath, trying to temper herself. "I already said my goddamn piece about how much I failed. I give myself enough shit about it without any input from you! But I'm here for one fucking reason, and it's incredibly important! So even if you don't think I could ever mature, or change, or be trusted with something this big - at least believe _ nothing _less serious would compel me to darken your fucking doorway again." 

She was aware vaguely of the sound of one of her friends standing up behind her, possibly trying to calm her down, but she was so far past that.

"This," replied Thoreau readily, rising from his seat just as fast as he had taken it, "This is exactly what I mean. All this effing and blinding and losing your temper at the slightest provocation, Beau, it's how you've always acted, and yes, it is immature, and yes, it does give me serious doubt that I should believe one word of this already incredulous story! The Cobalt Soul might have given you an Expositor title, but a responsibility of this magnitude? No, this is some scheme of your own making, and if you think your little gang of friends here are lending you any legitimacy, let me assure you they're not. I don't know what's really happening, but I know it's beyond time you grew up. You’re embarrassing yourself."

The fact that he was actually right, that he’d seen through her show, stung so much she couldn’t formulate a reply for a second. But someone else did.

"Do not speak to her like that." It was Caleb behind her, his voice soft, but the same soft it had become when he'd spoken to the scourger - a terrible calm.

"Caleb," Beau began to say, but Thoreau rounded on him now.

"Excuse me? Whoever you are, don't you speak to _ me _ like that. You think you can march into my home - attracting all sorts of attention, no doubt - bringing a tiefling and a _ goblin _and... whatever that is? I'll speak to my daughter however I-"

At that point he stopped talking, because Caleb smacked him across the face.

Caleb looked at his own arm in mild surprise. Beau could only gape.

An angry red slap mark was forming on Thoreau's stubbled cheek. He appeared completely stupefied, raising a hand to the spot.

Caleb looked up as calmly as if he had just shaken Thoreau's hand. "And now you are even, I think." He nodded at Beau. "Well. We should go, perhaps?"

"We... we should."

The Nein stood up slowly, stunned to a man. Jester brushed her skirt out and plumped the cushion behind her, but stayed silent. Caduceus didn't even tell Thoreau it had been nice to meet him. Thoreau said nothing at all, just holding his own face and staring forwards, even as Beau closed the door behind her.

"Um," said Yasha once they were alone in the front yard again. It was late; dusk had fallen while they were inside. "This is awkward, but I just realised I still have this." She held up her empty wine glass.

"We'll come back tomorrow," said Fjord at the same time as Beau said "Just smash it."

Beau laughed. "Yeah, no, Fjord's right. We'll try again. Maybe. If they let us in. We have to." She punched Caleb in the side. "Have I ever told you you're the fucking man?"

"_Nein, nein_. It was the least I could do. And in fact it was very foolish. I am sorry." He looked bewildered, as if his brain was only beginning to catch up with his actions.

"Don't apologise." She grinned. "That was the best thing I've ever seen."

"Yeah! If I may be so bold, _ fuck _that guy," Nott put in.

"My hand really hurts," Caleb confessed.

"Maybe you stick to spells from now on and leave the hitting to me. Still. Fucking baller. Well. Guess we'd better find somewhere to stay," Beau exhaled, laughing again.

Things were kinda fucked now. And she'd cried, and she'd yelled, and the plan was up the shitter, but right now, slinging her arm around Caleb's shoulders as she walked away, her heart was strangely lighter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since i had planned this chapter before we met the Lionetts, i decided not to rewatch that episode or read the transcript before writing, so i wouldn't get in my head about whether to diverge from it. so apologies there's likely a bit of overlap and possibly some incongruities in this scene. but we're not done w them yet! (yes, the slap was mostly just wish fulfilment) 
> 
> hope you're all thrivin' and survivin' in quarantine!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much-needed talk helps clarify Beau's priorities as she attempts further negotiations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: more dealing with parental emotional abuse, again similar levels of content as in the show, if you find that difficult

Beau drew the thick woollen curtains over the window, extinguishing the last dregs of light in the moon-blue sky from the small room. The Mighty Nein had laughed all the way to the inn; decided they would all get drunk once they’d sorted a place to stay. But in fact once she had sat down a while, and the shock of Caleb's actions had worn off for them all (though not before all of them insisted on buying him a drink each), Beau just felt tired. And - even though she was glad it had all happened, she really was - she felt a little sad, too. And didn't want booze to make her sadder. That was something approaching a mature decision, right?

So she had just put the money down for everyone's rooms; wouldn't brook any argument. Now that she’d once again been steeped in the vulgar excess of her parent's home, her skin crawled with how much more they had than they needed. It made her want to shed money wherever she could. She might not be living off her father's coin any more, but it still oozed into every part of who she was. 

She'd taken the key to her and Jester’s room and abruptly disappeared up the stairs without saying much. She sat down heavily on the bed now and just thought.

Thoreau Junior. (So there _ was _a name worse than hers to be burdened with.) Strange to think he was just a little boy. Blameless and innocent. When would that change? When did you start becoming accountable, aware of the way your surroundings infected you? Because Beau felt horrifically aware.

There was a gentle rap of knuckles on wood, and the torch in its bracket beside the bed flickered with a slight breeze as the door swung open.

"Knock knock. Do you mind if I come in?"

Beau closed her eyes and smiled. "Of course not." She felt the bed dip as Jester sat down beside her.

They didn't say anything. The feeling of her so close was _ so _-

She felt a ghost of a touch, more with the sixth sense that came from her monk's instincts than any other - that Jester's hand came near to her arm, but stopped.

When she opened her eyes Jester's hands were in her own lap. The freckles that dusted her cheeks had gotten darker and more numerous in the unbroken weeks of Empire sunshine. They were different sizes, like pebbles in a stream on the blue of her complexion, centred on her nose and spreading out across her apple cheeks. Beau thought about counting them.

"I know you probably wanted to be alone," Jester started. "I just-"

"No, I'd always rather - go on."

"I wanted to say. And maybe I don't say it enough because I know that this sort of thing makes you feel awkward." But it was Jester herself who seemed nervous, looking down at her hands in her lap rather than at Beau. "But I wanted to say that you were really, really incredible today."

Beau leaned back and laughed. "That's one fuckin' word for it. Incredible how badly I fucked up-"

"No, don't," Jester turned and cut across her sharply, and it was so unexpected that she _ did _actually stop, sitting back up. "Don't start doing that, that is what I mean - just going straight to being self-deprecating. I know it's because it's much easier than being serious, but I am serious right now! I just need to know that you know it, too. You were brave, you..." 

At once Jester grabbed both of her hands. Beau let her, dizzied by how cool and soft the fingers wrapped around her own were, as she continued. "You _ are _brave. That was so hard and horrible to do. We all hated just being there, and I can't even imagine how much worse you must have felt. I mean, they’re your parents, and they were so… so cold to you.” She bit her lip, looking upset. “I think you must have had to fight so hard, growing up there. But you still went back! And you stood up for yourself. Can you admit that?"

"I... okay."

"Can you say it for me? Say that you're brave. Try to mean it."

"Seriously, Jes?"

"Seriously." Jester gripped her hands tight and looked at her with stern intensity. "I won't let go until you do."

_ I don't want you to let go. _Beau was so seized by the tight feeling in her chest that she couldn't remember what she was supposed to be doing. "Okay, um... I'm brave."

"Great!" Jester beamed, and released her fingers.

Beau retracted her hands slowly to her sides. They felt like a heavy weight. Pressed her arms in close to herself. Needed to remember to keep that distance.

"Now the next one might be harder," Jester carried on firmly, "But I want you to say it too."

"Dude," Beau said weakly. "What is this? High-speed therapy?"

Jester ignored her, still looking her squarely in the eyes. "No, this is serious. Say this: I deserve love. I deserve to be loved."

Another uncomfortable laugh choked its way out of her throat. "Oh, gods..."

"Just say it, Beau. It's true. Isn't it true?"

_ Is it? _

Having Jester so close was unbearable. Beau could smell her breath. It always seemed sweet no matter what sort of day they’d had. And this close, if she just laughed, or tried to look away, or brush her off, it was like Jester could just see right through her. See the part of Beau she'd buried deep, deep inside her, the part that wasn't confident or tough or brave at all.

And... she guessed it was that part that all the other ones were ultimately shouting at. _ Poor little rich girl. Boo hoo, toughen up. Shut up. Stop whining. Do better. Try harder. The world doesn't owe you shit. _

That part that was too weak and too quiet to make itself heard when it, just sometimes, protested back. _ I am trying. I'm doing my best. I'm okay. I'm not a bad person... I might even be good. _

"Isn't it true?"

She couldn't tear herself away from those violet eyes. How could they have so much understanding in them? How could Beau even begin to be that sort of person, as good a person as Jester was? To be so kind to others that you could really, genuinely, extend kindness to yourself?

Maybe she could start here. "Yeah." Her voice came out like a child's mumble. "I deserve to be loved."

Jester smiled and leaned in and pulled her close for a hug.

They rested their heads on each other's shoulders. The room in warm shadow behind her. Waves of dark blue hair partially obscuring her vision, sweet and clean and soft. The unmistakable swell in Jester’s middle pressing against her ribs. The hard chitin of Jester's horn poking against the shaved patch on Beau’s skull was less comfortable, but she could bear that forever if it meant staying right here.

“You deserve so much better than them,” Jester whispered.

And what could she possibly say to that? How much could she respond? Could she even begin to curb her feelings down from where they were? "I... thank you. You didn't have to do that for me."

"I know I didn't have to." Jester pressed her chin down on Beau's shoulder. "I wanted to. I care about you, you know that."

"I... care about you too."

"You don't always have to be the one who's tough for other people. Let the rest of us do it sometimes."

Beau chuckled. "Okay. In return, just - remember what I said on the ship once?"

"Well, gosh, you said a lot of things on the ship!"

"Okay, that's fair." (_Love you, Jes. _ Oh fuck, she really had said that, and before she had any idea-) "I mean... I said I'd like to see you angry. And I still mean it. I'll try not to always be the tough one, so don't feel like you always gotta be the sweet one. If you are angry, I mean. Let 'em know."

She felt Jester smile. "Okay, I will." Finally, naturally, they pulled away from each other. For a little moment, her hand on Jester's back remained, touching her hair. 

And it would be easy, so easy, to just lean in again. Kiss the freckles dappling her round cheeks, then move down to her blue lips, just parted, soft and dewy. But.

No, this had been such a good thing, a nice thing between them, and she wouldn't spoil it at the last second.

"It's late," she said instead, drawing back.

Jester nodded. "I am pooped!" (Gods, it was so fucking cute how she said that it made Beau want to hit something. _ Pewped_.) She flopped onto the other bed, sighing as she gazed up at the low and dingy ceiling. “It’s going to be fine, you know? We will work something out. Your dad is… okay, not a great guy, but maybe he just needs time. I am really good at changing people’s minds.” 

“Yeah, if that’s what you call annoying people into submission.”

“That is exactly what I call it!” Jester rolled over and stuck her tongue out at Beau. “It’s how I made friends with all of you!”

Beau laughed as she closed her eyes. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

“...Hey. Beau.”

“What?” She opened one eye.

Jester’s face was snuggled into her pillow. “The Traveler loves you.”

“Oh.” She closed it again. “Thanks… Traveler.” 

Maybe she did deserve love. But she couldn’t possibly deserve Jester.

*

She slept without dreaming, and woke up with the dawn. Over the other side of the room, in the half-light, Jester snored deeply, chin folded into her neck, blankets a mess. She never used to sleep on her back, but it must be more comfortable now. Beau spent a few minutes lying still on her side, just watching Jester’s stomach rise and fall like the calm swell of the sea. Then she exhaled, stretched, and padded quietly out of the door.

It was early, but the sky was already clear and warm. _ Grapes will be happy_, Beau thought, looking north at the mountains as she made her way through the quiet streets of Kamordah. The phrase came to her mind easily, automatically, in her father's cadence. Him picking her up and pointing out of the window at their flourishing legacy, vines stretching across the sloping fields in clean lines on a warm summer's day. _ Grapes will be happy today. _

This time it was Caryn who answered her knock, looking even more alarmed than Jena had. "Oh, Miss, it's you!"

"Sure is. Hey, is my dad up? I know it's early."

But he was an early riser himself, another thing she inherited, and she could tell from how Caryn's eyes darted behind her up the stairs to where his office sat, even as she answered with a noncommittal "Um, I'm not sure..."

"Can you let him know it's just me? And that I come in peace."

Caryn blushed and nodded. "Of course. Why don't you just, um..."

Beau waved a hand. "Don't worry, I'll wait out here."

And it was a long wait, long enough that she began to think this hadn't worked, until the maid finally returned to gesture Beau wordlessly inside. She expected to be directed to the front parlour once again, where guests were typically entertained, but instead Caryn led her upstairs. It was very odd, being escorted to her father's office as if she didn’t know the way. Now, without the Nein to remind her of her new life, it really felt like she'd come home, slipped back in time.

Once left alone, she knocked on the sturdy oak door. She used to wonder sometimes if he chose to put his office right at the top of the staircase as a power play, to make you climb up to his proud station where he sat in judgement. It probably wasn’t deliberate, though. Her father just didn’t think that deeply about things. 

(She liked to hope so, anyway. It would be harder if he did.)

“Come in, then.” 

The office hadn’t changed in the slightest either. Two walls were lined with books and folders, mostly business records, and the small floor space was dominated by a broad oak desk with a huge bay window behind it, scattered with dull-looking letters, papers and inkwells, the only personal touch being a wooden paperweight Clara had bought for his 50th. A lion, standing proudly rampant. 

Behind the desk sat Thoreau, eyebrows raised. Later in the day, when the sun was at its full height, it might rise behind him and cast him into shadow, but for now the morning light painted him in softer tones. No mark remained on his cheek - well, Caleb definitely couldn’t hit that hard - but the injury remained evident in his expression. 

“Beauregard,” he said curtly. “I assume you’re here to apologise.” 

She sat down in the spare chair, spread her legs, and folded her arms. “Don’t assume. I’m not Caleb’s minder, he can do what he wants. But I am here to talk. And I figured it’d be simpler without my friends. They care about me a lot, so.” 

She was surprised to find it didn’t feel like a front, saying that. 

“I could see that.” 

“Yeah. I - look, Dad, I came to put aside all of that. All our baggage. There’s obviously no point talking about it ‘cause we’ll both just get angry. But I am serious about needing your help. If you want to be paid for your assistance we can arrange that-” 

“There is nothing to talk about,” he began before she’d even finished speaking. “And no, of course I don’t want your money. I wouldn’t ask that of you under any circumstances, but this - I thought I made myself clear. Whatever this is, I’m not becoming involved.” 

“There wouldn’t be any risk to you. There would be no connection to the Lionett business.”

“It’s a matter of integrity, Beauregard, and I have a moral duty to protect my clients’ confidentiality-”

The contrived gravity of his tone made her snort. “Oh, bullshit. More like you have a moral duty to protect all the gold you anticipate from him!”

Thoreau leaned forward and pinched his brow. “Well, I’m glad it didn’t take you long to stoop to insults. Is this conversation over?” 

She had a retort ready to go, but bit her cheek instead and sighed. He was right. She tried to find that calm place again. Nicodranas. Find the ocean, flowing in and out.

“Sorry. That wasn’t necessary. Look, Dad, you don’t know anything about this man. He’s seriously evil and we are some of the only people in a position to take him down.” 

He leaned back, seemed to gather his thoughts, mouth twitching with discomfort. “Now. Not that I’m actually entertaining the idea, but sure, let’s say it’s true. If Trent Ikithon is ‘seriously evil’, why don’t more people know about it? Surely a government body would step in?”

“This is that, _ we’re _ the government body!” She tried to rein in her excitement at having him on the hook; get back to sounding professional. “It’s hard to explain but it’s - things get covered up. Powerful people can get away with a lot behind closed doors because others don’t question them. They can buy their way out of inconvenience or arrange for people to disappear. That’s why this has to be so covert. We’ve been in Rexxentrum trying to get an in with him for months, but it’s impossible. The Assembly and the Academy do _ everything _internally. Except, it seems, order their wine.” She leaned back, smiling.

“And what is it that you intend to do? When you finally catch this criminal, I mean,” Thoreau continued sardonically. “From all the secrecy, I can’t imagine an act of vigilante justice will go down very well.” 

“No, that’s later, once we have proof. But first we need to get inside. Like, literally inside his house.” She leaned forward, lowered her voice. “He - I can’t say what it is, but he stole something really important that doesn’t belong to him. We intend to retrieve it. We’ve known he was a piece of shit for ages, but this could be the proof that takes him down. If it all goes well, he won’t even know we’re there until we’re gone. No contact. Nothing that implicates you.” 

He was compelled, she could tell, despite himself - his eyes focused on hers. Just _ sometimes _she knew how to be persuasive. Now for the finish; make her request sound minimal and more than reasonable. “I just need to know what you know. That’s all. If you just have a date and time for a gathering, even, that could be great - but the more we can learn the better.”

_ There _ was the head tilt she’d hoped for. The minute movement of her father’s deep brown irises, the drawn-in brow that indicated he was thinking it over. 

Then a deep sigh. “Beau… I shouldn’t have dismissed you yesterday. Of course, your rank in the Soul is legitimate and... now that I’ve had time to take everything in I… can see this being true. But…”

There was always a but.

Thoreau placed his hands on the desk and looked at her frankly. “Even if this man really is as corrupt as you say, it doesn’t change things. You have to understand. If the leaking of this information came back to me somehow... If I took any risks with your mother’s safety, with Thoreau Junior’s safety, I could never forgive myself. Look, until you have a family of your own it’s impossible for you to understand what it feels like, this -”

“Well I’m glad you have a family now,” said Beau acidly.

He winced. “No, that wasn’t what I meant. You are my family, of course, I - but you’re a grown woman now, and _ much _more capable of taking care of yourself than I am. I don’t delude myself there!” He laughed without humour. “But he’s just a toddler, completely dependent. I mean, being a parent, Beau, it changes everything about your priorities.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” As soon as the words shot out, she regretted them. Here they were again, somehow. “Ugh. I didn’t mean to say that. I mean - you’re right, Dad. I guess I don’t know what that’s like yet.” 

Her honesty seemed to be taking both of them by surprise. Thoreau looked down for a moment, as if unsure on how to proceed. Beau spent a moment staring out of his window at the clear blue sky, waiting for him to gather his thoughts. The view from here was perfectly situated to frame a landscape of their vineyards as they began behind the property, stretching on up the hilltops and out of sight. _ Grapes will be happy today_. 

“I have to admit, on that note… it did surprise us both. Your mother and I, that is… That your friend is still travelling with you in her condition.” 

Beau felt her eyebrow twitching as she looked back at him. “And what condition would that be?”

“I mean, pregnant,” he said uncomfortably, pronouncing the word as if it were some mysterious feminine secret to which he was not privy. “How far along is she?”

Leaning back in her chair, Beau had to think about it. “I s’pose a bit over five months,” she eventually shrugged. “And yeah, well, we told her she should take it easy if she wanted to. But she didn’t. And it’s her body. She can take it where she wants.” She gave him a challenging look. 

“Well - of course, of course.” Thoreau shut down quickly, seeming to realise he’d picked a topic he didn’t care to get into. “That’ll be a nice thing to look forward to, then. A little baby.” 

“It will.” So much more she could say, but shouldn’t. She just nodded tightly again. “It will.” 

She still didn’t know how to think of _ the baby_; still had trouble truly associating Jester’s bump with the abstract idea of a screaming, wriggling, growing, living being. One that would, only a few months from now, change so suddenly from conceptual to very real. 

“And the father, is he, uh… among your number? He’s happy too?” 

Her jaw tightened. “…Yeah. He is.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “He’s really looking forward to being a dad.”

There was a silence. When Thoreau spoke again, he was staring down at the scattered papers on his desk, and the lines around his jowls seemed deep and heavy. “I regret much of what went wrong between us, Beau. I do. You know - your grandfather was no peach either. It’s difficult to see how you intend to be different, and... realise you’ve become so similar. When your mother was expecting you, I had so many hopes of what our relationship would be like, but, well. You... are who you are. I shouldn’t have tried to change you. But I am who I am, too.” 

She could feel the prickling all over her face once again, like little shards of ice, as she pulled her mouth stiff and tried to swallow whatever was in her throat. _ Fuck_. She’d tried so hard not to feel anything coming here. “Yeah.” It came out gruffly.

He had picked up the lion paperweight and was absently turning it over and over in his hands. “I know I can’t change the past and do things better. I’m - trying with TJ. I hope you don’t resent that.” 

“I don’t.” She cleared her throat. “He’s a good kid.” 

“Good. Good.” He put down the lion and gave her a weak smile. “The thing you have to understand is nobody teaches you to be a father. You certainly weren’t the easiest child!” He chuckled. “So -”

“No.” And she had to, now, she couldn’t stop herself. “No, Dad, this self-righteous shit has gone on long enough.”

He stared at her. 

Beau clenched her fists in her lap. “You still haven’t actually said you’re sorry for a damn thing. Or asked how to make it up to me. You’re just airing the sound of your own voice! And I - _ keep listening-_” she laughed in a half-sob - “-because it’s like - I keep thinking that, somehow, an apology is going to happen, and it’ll fix what’s wrong with me. Even though I know that even if you did, it’s just not that easy.”

“Beau...”

“And that’s okay, you know? I don’t need it from you. I don’t! You’re right, I was a shitty kid, and you’re right, you can’t change the past and unfuck what’s been fucked in our relationship. You’re right that nobody teaches you to be a father, and it’s… it’s terrifying.”

He was looking at her strangely enough now that she could tell her fear spilling through didn’t make sense to him. But now that she had begun, it was pouring out before she could stop herself, no longer speaking to him at all.

“But guess what? You still owe it to your kid to do better. Because they didn’t ask to be here and they sure as hell didn’t ask to inherit your baggage. And I’m not under any fucking illusions that I will do an amazing job, but I _ know _I’m gonna do a damn sight better than you.” 

Her eyes were blurry; she only saw how he shifted in his chair. The silence between them stretched longer and longer, like rows upon rows of parallel grapevines. 

Finally, quietly, he spoke. “What are you saying?”

_ Fuck it_, thought Beau. “I’m going to be a... parent.”

“Wait, you… you too? That can’t - I thought you were -”

“No, fucking - ew, no, gods! It’s mine, I mean. Jester’s baby. It’s mine. I’m… the father of it, and shit.” 

“_What_?”

Her vision cleared up just in time to see her father’s face turn from carefully composed to openly incredulous. Fantastic. Why wasn’t it possible to stuff the words back into her mouth? 

“You don’t want me to go into it, Dad, it’s magical bullshit, I… didn’t intend on having to explain this but. Yeah. It’s mine.” Beau gulped, and then straightened. “We didn’t plan on it, but we’re having a baby and we’re gonna… we’re gonna do our best.” 

Thoreau closed his eyes and exhaled deeply before standing up. “You’re right. I don’t want you to go into it. I can only assume that was... intended as some sort of joke to mock me? I’m afraid I don’t find it very funny.” 

There was some kind of exterior noise she was vaguely aware of, people talking and feet running, but it was overpowered by the blood boiling in her head. 

“I - you know what, fine. I don’t know why I expected otherwise. Fuck it!” She snapped to her feet and stuck her chin up. “I don’t give a shit if you don’t believe me. It’s nothing to me. I don’t have to prove anything to you.” 

“Fine. This conversation is obviously over.”

“Fine! It is.” 

Beau turned around and wrenched open the door, determined to leave before he could dismiss her, resolving never to come back here as long as she lived, but was immediately hit with the full force of Caryn’s shrill voice, growing shriller as Beau ran down the stairwell - 

“-certainly not be bothering the master, I should think _ not!_ The cheek of you-”

-only to be confronted by the sight of none other than Caleb and Caduceus in the front doorway, both looking alarmed and holding their hands up as Caryn brandished a broom in their direction, cocking it like a Tal’Dorei sharpshooter. 

All three looked up at her - and, she realised belatedly, her father standing behind her at the top of the stairs, equally shocked. 

Caduceus waved. 

Caleb cleared his throat. “_ Hallo_. I am, er... here to talk,” he called up, looking between Beau and Thoreau and swallowing. “Not too late, I hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the big delay again, essay deadlines have come back around to kick my ass!
> 
> used a couple direct quotes from canon this time around because i scribbled them down furiously when i was watching the episode lmao. also one very silly homage to another media which u might spot
> 
> thanks for all your kind support as always!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caduceus gets in the zone as Caleb opens up to the Lionetts. Pastries are eaten, and plans begin to converge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter-specific warnings: caleb's backstory, inc his scars

“Herr Lionett.” Caleb fell into an unexpected bow, one that would seem overly obsequious if he didn’t play it so naturally, “I must firstly apologise for my action yesterday. I - I care very much for Beauregard. I became emotional, and reacted with unbecoming violence. I hope you have the generosity to let bygones be bygones.” 

This was smooth-talker Caleb in full swing, the version of him that would leap out for the Bright Queen and oily politicians, so well-trained in his gestures that it was very hard to detect any falsehood. Beau, though, knew him well enough to see the jut of tension in his neck betraying his insincerity. 

“Uh.” Thoreau looked between them. Caduceus stood by. “That depends on what you want.” 

“As I said, to talk, and,“ Caleb swallowed, “To tell you the truth.” 

Thoreau’s forehead wrinkled harshly as his brows rose. He was still rooted to one spot on the stairs, as was Beau. “_The _ truth? How am I supposed to distinguish the truth from all the different fictions you keep alternating between?” 

“That’s why I’m here,” Caduceus supplied, his gravelly voice always a little more intimidating when it wasn’t lifted by a smile. “Good morning, by the way.” 

It took Beau a moment to follow his slow-blinking eyes and realise he was speaking above them to Clara, who had emerged from her boudoir in a fluffy robe, hair wrapped in a towel, with some kind of green goop on her face. “Oh. What is it now?” she asked in a weary tone. 

“Well, with your permission - and I do think it’s best if you’re involved too, ma’am - I’m going to cast a spell known as Zone of Truth,” Caduceus explained mildly. “Are you familiar with it?”

“I… have heard that certain clerics can invoke such things,” replied Clara warily. “What exactly would be the purpose of this?”

“So that we can tell you some things about - about what we are doing,” Caleb answered, glancing at Caryn, who was still present, “And you will know them to be genuine. I know we have already asked a lot without much evidence, so… This is what I have to offer.”

“We thought it would help you make an informed decision,” nodded Caduceus. “Unless, of course, you already have?” He looked at Beau. 

She gave him a queasy smile. “Uh.” Fuck. Couldn’t they have come fifteen minutes earlier, before she burned her bridges? 

To her surprise, though, Thoreau gave a slow inclination of his head. “...All right, let’s do your spell. Just to clear this matter up.” 

Clara blinked. “Well… all right. I’ll get dressed then. Um, can I offer you anything in the meantime? A drink?” 

“Tea would be lovely,” said Caduceus as Caleb mutely shook his head.

“Caryn, could you sort a cup of tea for... Caduceus, was it?” 

“It was. Thank you, that’s so kind,” he said, turning to Caryn as she retracted her still-wielded broomstick with some hesitation and nodded. 

Beau looked up at her father, trying to work out what the hell had just happened, but he was already walking down the stairs, smoothing a crease out of his shirt and avoiding her eyes.

Fucking hell. “Okay. This might as well happen,” she muttered, following.

Although neither of them said much as they greeted her, Beau could feel Caleb’s apprehension and Caduceus’s searching gaze as Thoreau led the trio to wait in the front parlour. Holding her arms, she sat down in her reading chair again and watched her father. He was looking determinedly out the window, trying to seem enraptured by his featureless front yard. Perhaps it was just the effect of having Caduceus in the room, but he looked smaller.

Clara arrived shortly after Caryn did, looking more put-together in a conservative blue dress, her dark hair in a loose bun. Dismissing the maid with a murmur, she seated herself delicately on the edge of her armchair. “Apologies for the delay. Shall we begin?”

“Mm. This tea is wonderful. What’s in it?” asked Caduceus, taking a deep dreg, his bovine lips curling up into a pink smile.

Clara coloured. “Oh, I’m not sure. I can ask afterwards.”

Beau looked at Thoreau. His head hadn’t turned from the window. There were a few clouds now across the morning sky. 

After another long sip, Caduceus nodded, putting down his mug and taking up his crystalline staff from where he’d leaned it on the arm of the sofa. “All right, folks. This incantation has a fifteen-foot radius, and lasts ten minutes. You’ll all feel the effect come over your mind, and though it is possible the spell can fail, I think it’ll be helpful if we’re all in the same boat, honesty-wise, so try not to resist it. I’ll know who does. I guess you’ll just have to trust me on that. Is that fair? You won’t be compelled to speak, you just aren’t able to lie.”

His easy drawl, she could tell, was having the same hypnotic effect on both her parents as it had on the Nein when they first met Cad; like a small child being read a story, you just felt that his words were reasonable. They both nodded, as did Caleb and, after a delay, Beau. 

Caduceus closed his eyes. “All right.” Lifting the staff and concentrating, he muttered a few Sylvan words under his breath, moving it in a slow circle as the crystal glowed a warm green for a beat. 

Closing her eyes too, Beau felt the suggestivity of the magic uncurl in her brain: it wasn’t so much a command, but more like when you just started to feel the influence of alcohol - a filter being lifted. She could tell, though, that with her Cobalt mental fortitude, she could throw it off if she wished. 

Eh. Better to play in the space; it was only ten minutes. She let the magic settle into her mind, and looked around as Caduceus nodded approvingly. Thoreau looked wary, glancing at Clara; her mother just looked confused. Caleb hadn’t moved. 

“I’m a cute fl-” said Beau, then twisted her mouth as her tongue seized up, refusing to form the rest of the sentence until she changed her intent. “...I was trying to say I’m a cute fluffy unicorn, so. Good to get that cleared up.” 

Caduceus laughed, but nobody else joined in. Oof. 

She cleared her throat. “Tough crowd. Okay, let’s just get on with it. I actually don’t know where these two are going with this,” Beau continued, leaning forward and addressing her parents. "'Cause like, guys, we really shouldn't tell them anything confidential-" 

But she trailed off as she realised that Caleb, who she had thought was only staring down at his lap and gripping his arms, as he did when stressed, had in fact pulled up his sleeves and was methodically unwrapping the tightly-bound dirty bandages that lay underneath. "Um."

"I do not know if it's worth appealing to your sense of duty, or guilt, because you have not demonstrated much capacity for the latter," said Caleb calmly, looking up at Thoreau at the end - face twitching as he seemed to realise what he'd said, but didn't retract it. Having finished unwrapping his left arm, he started on the right, still hunched over. "But I may as well explain my own motivations. I imagine you will have guessed that our grievance with Ikithon is personal. Well, personal for me."

"Is this going somewhere?" asked Thoreau in a clipped tone, his body language still averted away from them all, keeping himself distant.

"My name is - not really Caleb Widogast. I have changed it to protect myself." Caleb's voice was commanding, so that Beau and both her parents sat up a little at attention - but devoid of emotion, utterly flat in affect. "I used to be a student of Master Ikithon. A favoured student. He asked a lot of us, his chosen few. The cost of his magical experiments ran higher and higher, as we became more and more indoctrinated by his nationalist lies. We... felt we were part of something important. But we were nothing more than subjects for experiments like this."

So saying, he held up both his bare wrists, prompting a muted gasp from Clara as she took in the deeply gouged crystal scar lines - still making Beau flinch a little even though she knew perfectly well they were always there. Pink and puckered in some places, smoother and faded in others, but still visible after all these years.

His brow was heavy and his mouth set, but Caleb held his arms stiffly aloft for a silence that seemed to stretch long minutes. Clara held her hands up to her mouth, unable to look away, but Thoreau had turned his head back to the window after a quick glance, expression impenetrable, hand on his chin.

Caleb put his hands down in his lap, and only the swiftness with which he redressed the bandages betrayed any vulnerability, his tone still forcibly neutral. "That was far from the worst, but it is at least something I can show you. He is a liar. He is a megalomaniac, and convinced myself and my companions to do very, very terrible things in the name of the Empire. I spent ten years catatonic as a result, shortly before I met your daughter and the rest of our friends. The artifact he h -"

He swallowed and tried again. "The artifact we think he has; we do not know, is more powerful than he - or perhaps anyone - understands. We are bound by urgency to take this power from him, even at a time we would all rather prioritise looking after our Jester. You are the best lead we have. I am not actually sorry for hitting you, Herr Lionett, but I do think you have the chance now to help do a great deal of good."

After a pause, Caduceus gently put in, "And you too, Mrs. Lionett. I wouldn't feel right unless you both consented."

Beau was silent, too caught in her thoughts. To hear Caleb, in all his caginess, speak so personally, and _ know _it was all honest? There was much to take in. The care in his soft voice when he spoke of Jester. The fact that he actually seemed to believe now that what Ikithon had done to him was not his fault. And that last admission, over which she had to hide a smile.

Clara's voice was choked with emotion when she spoke. "He was your teacher? And he did that to you?"

"Yes.”

“You were just a child?”

“I was. And I would like to be outside now. I am going to sit in the yard," Caleb announced. So saying, he stood up swiftly, and paused just before exiting. “...It goes without saying that you must never speak of this to anyone.” 

His facial expression was still absolutely neutral as he left, but the lines of sleeplessness under his eyes looked somehow more sunken in. Beau’s heart ached with the urge to follow and wrap her arms around him.

She shared a look with Caduceus, who stood up and sighed. "I'm going to make sure he's okay. But, ah... The zone will still be up, if you both want to talk this over with Beau." He took a final sip of his tea and departed, his tufted tail swinging with what Beau now recognised as suppressed anxiety. She really wanted to leave, too, but hunched her shoulders and stayed put.

After a pause, Thoreau spoke. "So you don't even know if the man actually has this stolen thing. That's just supposition." He turned, finally, and looked at her, moving his hand from where it had rested over his mouth. "And is the Cobalt Soul actually involved? Or even aware?"

...That was his reaction? How could he be so _ heartless_? "It's on good authority. And no, fine, they're not. But The Mighty Nein has become a more important organisation than the Cobalt Soul, Dad. Not just for me, but potentially for the Empire and beyond.” Beau squeezed her fists tight. "I don't want to do this. I don't want to think about anything except what Jester and the baby need. I'm scared as fuck. But we feel we have to. With or without you."

Oh. Well, she hadn't meant to say all that. This spell was tricky, after all; things slipped out once you got going.

"That poor boy," said Clara softly. "We have to - we should do something."

"It's not that I don't feel deeply shocked by what I've just seen," said Thoreau, looking at his wife. "But Clara, now, to cross a man like that - think of Thoreau Junior. This is obviously bigger than you and I can conceive of, I think-”

Beau was already revving up to snap back at him, but instead was caught off guard as - for the first time in her memory - her mother interrupted her father.

“It _ is _ bigger than us, Thoreau, and that’s why we must help.” Clara had leaned forward into her lap, less upright and composed than she’d ever normally let herself be seen, wringing her hands together. “Don’t you see? We’re just… two small people. But Beau - Beau is doing big, important, _ good _things on a national scale, and asking only one thing from us.” She lifted her head and looked sidelong at her husband, so that Beau couldn’t see her expression, just hear her voice, low and pained. “This isn’t just anyone. It’s our daughter.” 

“Mom.” Beau swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat. “I…”

Thoreau gave a deep inhale, and she prepared for him to hit the roof. 

But for once in his life, he didn’t seem to have anything to say. His Adam’s apple moved up and down. He stared at the floor. Then he rose to his feet, muttering “Fine, I… fine. You’ve obviously decided for both of us, so far be it from me to object.” Without looking at either of them, strode out, slamming the door.

Clara gave her a tired smile. 

“Um. You should divorce that guy,” suggested Beau.

Her mother gasped, choking out shocked laughter. “Beauregard! He’ll come around-” 

“Seriously, look, the spell knows!” Beau waved her hands in the air to indicate the ethereal Zone still affecting them, then sighed, chuckling at herself. “Whatever, I know I should pick my battles. I… Thank you. That meant a lot.” 

Clara stood up, walking over and taking Beau’s hand, slightly awkwardly, as if asking her to dance at a party. She patted it, evidently not knowing what else to do. “I meant what I said. We’ll help in any way we can.” She glanced down. “Your words did make an impact, the other day. On both of us. And your friend... It must have been very hard for him to show us something so personal.” 

“Yeah. I think so.” Beau stood up too, looking down at their fleetingly interwoven hands - near-identical, long and slender. Clara’s skin, just a shade deeper brown than her own, and her polished wedding band were the only things that distinguished her still-youthful mother. “Can I ask, like... is there a reason you reacted so much to - to that?”

“Oh, n-” Clara’s mouth twisted as if she’d tasted something sour. Beau, recognising the sensation, raised a questioning eyebrow.

Her mother sighed. Reaching out and taking Beau’s other hand, she murmured, “I was thinking about what his mother must feel. Knowing she sent her child away… sent him somewhere she thought would be good for him. And instead he was hurt so terribly by it. I was thinking of how I would feel if those were your arms.”

“Oh geez. Mom, I…” But she trailed off, finding there was nothing she could say without opening Caleb’s wounds even further than he’d already dragged them. 

“You’ve gotten scars too.” Clara ran her hand up Beau’s arm, touching a faded burn mark on her bicep - from when she’d gotten doused in that troll sludge in the swamp, maybe? Or hang on, had it been that time Caleb got possessed and blasted them all with Fireball? Yikes. 

Beau shrugged. “Yep. ‘S’been a pretty crazy couple years, to be honest.” 

“But you’re happy?” Clara squeezed her hands. “Or… happier?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t have to think about the answer. The spell knew. “Yeah, I am.” 

Her mother took a long inhale, then met her eyes. “I’m glad. If there’s a way I can do better by you, Beau, I’ll do it. You’re my little girl. That should mean more than anything.” She let go and patted Beau’s arm one more time. “Now. Your father doesn’t keep me completely in the dark... I happen to know a thing or two about this Ikithon deal myself. Let’s make some plans.” 

*

“That was fucking real of you, Caleb.”

“Real? _ Entschuldigung_?”

Caleb’s voice was barely audible underneath the background chatter of shopping townsfolk, the clattering of their three sets of feet on the high street cobblestones, and above all the continuous rumbling purr that Frumpkin had been giving off since he was summoned; sounding like there was an entire hive of bees trapped inside his long orange form. He had draped himself scarf-like over his master’s hunched shoulders and was rubbing Caleb’s face with his own. 

Since Beau had caught the boys up, an unspoken agreement had formed between herself and Caduceus to act as subtle humanoid shields. They flanked Caleb on either side, shoulder-to-shoulder, keeping passers-by from peering with too much curiosity at the shabby-looking wizard between them who, though marginally better since they’d left the Lionett estate, still looked like he was about to be sick at any moment. 

“Yeah.” Beau paused in her sentence as a harried-looking halfling rocking a wailing baby in his arms pushed past them, making apologies. A smiling street vendor with too much oil in his hair began to approach them with an open case of novelty tin whistles, before he saw the look Beau shot him and swiftly retracted. Clearing her throat, she continued. “The whole Zone thing, and - all that. Y’know, you could’ve just said some nonsense and pretended to do the spell, actually, Cad; they’re both like me, about as magic as a rock, they’d never know. Did the two of you scheme this up just this morning?”

“I had an enlightening dream,” Caduceus smiled, tucking a lock of hair away from his face. “I woke up with the feeling we just needed another push with a more sympathetic motivation. And it turned out Caleb had been mulling over the idea anyway, so we collaborated.” 

“Dream? What dream?”

“It was about a rock.” 

Beau waited, but Caduceus didn’t elaborate. “Sounds ...cool.” Turning to scratch Frumpkin’s ears, she asked “What was your thinking, then, Caleb?”

“Well, I could see it from your father’s perspective. How it must all sound like lies, these non-specific demands without any evidence. I thought a man like that probably doesn’t see something this ugly and real very often.” Caleb tapped his wrists. “It might shock him into action. Of course, Caduceus’s hunch was more on the money. But either way it had the desired effect.”

Beau had stopped stroking Frumpkin, and as they waited for a horse and carriage to pass by, he batted her with his paw meaningfully. She sighed and continued tickling the pleased feline’s chin as they turned off the high street, navigating the smaller through-roads back to the inn. “You’re not ugly, Caleb,” she felt compelled to say. 

“Thank you, Beauregard. You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it, dude,” she insisted awkwardly. “Scars are dope.”

“They’re the proof that you survived something, and came out stronger for it. What’s more attractive than that?” said Caduceus blandly, tipping his straw hat up as he bent down to eye a window display of freshly baked bread. “Hm. Should we get pastries?” 

Beau exchanged a brief raised eyebrow with Caleb, before nodding as the sight of a buttery glazed croissant sent a gurgle through her stomach. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in my life.”

*

“You guys are the best!” Jester declared happily, kicking her short legs as they dangled off the edge of her bed, the Nein having all packed into the girls’ inn room to debrief over breakfast. “And Beau, you remembered to get me salty too!” She licked her lips, savouring the large salt crystals from her pretzel, having already gone through two muffins and a bagel. 

“‘Course. You just let me know when those cravings change,” Beau smirked, patting her own full stomach. 

“So I gather this treat means things went well? We all woke up wondering if you three were all right,” asked Fjord, who was sat on the floor with Nott and Caduceus due to the cramped space. They had managed to find rooms at one of the few inns where Beau didn’t have a reputation; The Old Stable was one of Kamordah’s more homey and traditional establishments, run by an elderly halfling couple, and as such, all the bedrooms, though nicely rustic and smelling of hearthwood, were on the diminutive side. 

“You could say that. Caleb kinda crushed it, then I was able to sit down with my mom and talk things through. Dad’s still being shitty but hey... that’s him.” Beau rolled her neck and set her plate down on the ground, picking up the last few crumbs of sugary pastry and licking her fingers clean. “Seems like Mom’s committed to putting her foot down with him, though. Which is a first. She wants us all back tomorrow, first thing. We’re gonna go through all the letters - turns out there’s been a few - and get all the details exact. But from what she told me, the deal was confirmed a few days before we got here.” 

At this point she leaned in conspiratorially - Caduceus and Fjord had already vetted the room thoroughly for eavesdroppers, but it was hard not to be paranoid. “They’ve been sent a deposit, and they’ve been told an exact place, date, and time. Trent’s tower. Highsummer’s Eve. Early morning delivery. _ And _instructions for how the couriers get access to the building on the day. We gotta make exact plans, but basically… Mom herself suggested that maybe the Lionett family’s special delivery couriers are gonna be a different team than the usual.” She couldn’t hold in her smile. “We’ve fuckin’ got our in, guys. Just a couple months from now - boom!”

“Aw shit!” Jester punched the air, pointed incisors poking through her grin, nearly sending her own plate flying with the motion, but it was deftly caught by Nott where she sat on the floor. “Oops. But yay! You guys, I am so fucking ready to go there, and get this stupid beacon, and _ bamf _ it straight to the Bright Queen already! We’ll finally be done and Essek will be like _ Whaaaaat? _ And he will be so proud of us and he will come up and dip Caleb and they will smooch, and the Queen will be like _ You are the heroes _ \- no, she already said that - _ you are the _ super _ heroes of the Dynasty, and yeah we already gave you a house but now you can have a castle with a moat for you to live in. And you can each have a pegasus also too. And so can your baby. _ And my pegasus will be called… Princess Candyfloss.” 

“Well, ahem. Let us hope it is that easy,” said Caleb, with what was close enough to a smile that he really must be in a good mood. 

But Jester’s words had stirred up a realisation for Beau that she was rather stupefied hadn’t occurred to any of them earlier. “Hold up, Jester, I just realised. Uh… by Highsummer, you’ll be like… eight months pregnant, won’t you?”

There was a chorus of “Oh yeah,” and “Oh shit,” as the Nein all looked surprised they hadn’t made the connection (except for a blinking Caduceus, to whom this information, like most pertaining to the calendar year, seemed brand new). 

Jester pouted, leaning forward and gently squishing her belly with both hands, as she’d started to habitually do when contemplating the future. “Balls. I guess I will. Oh, but you guys, I don’t want to miss out on the fun!”

“If it’s any comfort, it’s probably not going to be fun. Probably very stressful and dangerous. Which is exactly why you shouldn't be there at that point,” said Fjord evenly.

“Fjor-duh, that is exactly why I should be there! You’re gonna need both your clerics to heal!” (“Do you do that?” asked Nott snidely, which Jester chose to ignore). “And this is like, my thing! It’s a heist, it’s trickery - that’s my domain! We will need disguises, and duplicity, and we will _ definitely _need Dimension Door if shit goes south.” 

“Guys, I hate to say it, but I think Jester’s right. I wouldn’t feel easy about going into this situation without her,” said Caduceus after a pause, looking around.

Beau put her chin in her hands, leaning forward and sighing. “I get what you mean. We need the whole team when the stakes are this high, but Jes - now, I’m not tryin’ to sound like you’re gonna be a liability, of course not, or like, fussing too much, but. Even putting aside the safety of you and the kid… You will probably be, like, _ huge_. And possibly in pain, and tired, and needing to piss every six seconds. That could kinda... cause some problems.”

Jester flopped back. “Ugh. This sucks! I don’t wanna be the big giant pregnant _problem_! What if I just have the baby early?”

“I do not think that would be preferable,” commented Caleb.

“Maybe you can just… lay low, you know?” Yasha put in mildly, resting her hands on her crossed knees. “You could be invisible the whole time, and only cast spells if we need help. Then you wouldn’t be in the middle of things.”

“Yeah, and if there’s any sign of shit going south, you grab one of us and Dimension Door out of there, and the rest of us just kill everyone in the building and leg it!” Nott finished. 

“I mean, ideally we’re not killing anyone, or being noticed at all,” Beau felt the need to add, a touch alarmed. “Like, this is stealth, Nott. Stealth. But… yeah. That actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea, Yasha.” 

“It’s still not much fun.” Jester crossed her arms. “But I guess it’s better than nothing. First... I guess we need an actual plan.”

“Well. For right now, we’ve got something to go on, at least.” Fjord stood up and clapped Beau on the shoulder. “Well done, Beau. I know this hasn’t been an easy process.”

She brushed him off, abashed. “Seriously, it was… It was really all Caleb.”

“You overestimate me greatly, Beauregard,” said Caleb, blinking at her. 

“Yeah, Beau! You stuck it to the man!” crowed Nott from by her feet, making her snort. 

A blue hand reached across from the opposite bed and rested briefly on her knee. “I’m really proud of you, Beau,” Jester said earnestly. 

Beau swallowed, and suddenly wished very much that they were alone, in the dark, where it was so much easier for her to be honest. Or in a Zone of Truth. “Y… yeah,” she managed, instead. “Thanks.” 

Jester sat up, wiped the last crumbs off her face and wiggled a little with excitement, her tail coming to tuck around Yasha’s waist where the other woman sat next to her on the bed. “Okay, gosh, shall I just message Essek? Yeah, I’m gonna do it.” Jester’s fingers started flying into the familiar casting pattern as Fjord gave a deep sigh and held up his hands obligingly. “Hiiiii! We have a date! Highsummer’s Eve, bing boom bam!”

A thought occurred to Beau, who mouthed ‘_But they don’t have the sun_?’ 

Jester’s eyes widened. “Oh! That is a little bit over two months. So… all good!” Fjord held up three remaining fingers, and she furrowed her brow in frantic thought. “...Also I’m pregnant!”

Beau watched the smile increasingly spread across her face as she listened to the internal reply, and couldn’t help smiling too. 

“...Well?” asked Caleb carefully.

Jester patted her own knees in a happy beat. “He says congratulations, and if we want any necessary modifications or deliveries made to the house, he will arrange for it in our absence. Essek is actually sooooo sweet, you guys!” 

“That’s nice,” beamed Caduceus.

“Uh, and the date? Is that cool?” Beau persisted. 

“Oh, yeah, he says he’s gonna tell the Bright Queen. I’m sure it’s chill! I mean, what else can they do, y’know? It is all on us!” 

“Yeah,” Beau echoed with less ease, looking around the small room; the seven most important people in the world hunched inside of it. “All on us.” 

Caleb stood up rigidly. “Well. I have some paper and ink in my room... We had better start making preparations.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clara lionett redemption arc 2020 i believe   
highsummer is a celebration in the tal'dorei calendar, may not be a wildemount thing, but the cr wiki is my only source for anything so it'll have to do  
i've tentatively updated it to say this will have 19 chapters in total... which is not exactly a nice round number but knowing me it'll probably stretch out to 20 anyway. but yeah... (fjord trying to sound like he know what he's doing voice) we're in the endgame now.  
thanks as always for ur kind support!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer hits Kamordah, as preparations begin to converge, and Beau begins to reconnect with her loved ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this took a while but that's bc it's quite a bit longer than usual! normally i'd break it to even it up, but for pacing reasons i wanted all these scenes together. thanks as always to my beta reading friends for helping me iron this story out.  
nsfw warning does come back into play this chapter!

Collaborating largely with Clara for details, with the reluctant assent of a more distant Thoreau, the Mighty Nein found themselves in an odd interlude. The forced imposition of time until Highsummer’s Eve had rendered the group stationary. At first Beau assumed they would be heading back to Rexxentrum as soon as they’d got what they needed, but, as Caduceus pointed out, it was actually more beneficial to stay since they had no need to stalk the tower any longer; they would have to travel incognito with the wine delivery anyway, and the more time spent in Rexxentrum, the more risk of being spotted. Although there was no offer made to stay with her parents - an offer Beau would have vehemently refused, of course, but still - accommodation in Kamordah was significantly cheaper than the capital, and the homely innkeepers they’d initially stayed with were all too happy to hear they’d be extending their visit. 

The summer humidity seemed to rise out of the rich earth itself as Unndilar folded into Brussendar, with near-uninterrupted sunshine beating down hotter and hotter as the hillside vineyards sprung over a matter of days from green to richly purple, sagging with fruit. Thoreau’s focus on his business redoubled as the summer staff worked at full tilt to meet their quotas, the whole town saturated with the heady scent of grapes being culled and crushed. 

Beau could tell Yasha was struggling with the lack of rain; the heat played hell with her mane of hair. She tossed and turned through the hot nights in the room the three of them shared, clearly not getting much sleep. Beau herself quite liked the climate, but Jester, despite her balmy upbringing, was finding the heat equally oppressive. 

“It’s like - I already had to deal with boob sweat and thigh sweat and butt sweat, but now there’s all _ this_, and like, sweat is just in so many more places than usual!” she complained, pouting and gesturing broadly to her seven-month pregnant belly as she dipped her feet and tail into the brookwater.

Forded by a miniature bridge, the stream bordering the woodlands was one of Kamordah’s many features that Beau had always sneered at. It was so clearly manmade by the wealthy locals to give the _ appearance _of ancient small-town rustic charm: the bridge was a little too new and unweathered to make the pastoral scene authentic. 

But as soon as Jester saw it, she was flapping her hands and gushing about how cute and pretty it was, and Beau hadn’t the heart to be cynical. Standing there on the bank, watching TJ splash delightedly in the shallows while their mother held his hands, Jester kicking her feet in the water and leaning her head back with a sigh, Beau supposed it did look kind of charming.

A family of ducks squawked indignantly at the pint-sized menace rampaging through their brook, flapping away as Beau settled herself on next to Jester. “That sucks,” she replied. Now Beau was close enough to see the beads of sweat dotting Jester’s face, her resemblance to the Gentleman suddenly became a little more evident. Which was... weird. Still. “You’d think your whole icy blood thing would help, huh?” she added.

Jester blew her cheeks out and fanned herself, looking alarmed at the thought. “Sheesh, maybe it is! Maybe this would be even worse if I were a red tiefling.” 

“Does this help?” Beau bent down casually, as if going to stretch, then, with a wicked grin, flicked her hand into the stream and splashed Jester in the face.

“Ahh, you dickface!” she shrieked as Beau burst into cackles. Her laughter was quickly cut off when Jester stood up and shoved her bodily into the stream, making her let out a small involuntary scream herself at the sudden cold as she landed on her ass in the shallow trickle. 

The cool water seeping into her robes quickly became a pleasant relief, though, and she was in the process of pulling Jester in too (with slightly more care) as Clara and TJ splashed over to them, hand in hand. “Are you ready to head back, or should I just leave you to have fun?” asked Clara, with the barest hint of a smile.

Beau stood up, flustered, although Jester of course showed no such embarrassment. Instinctively, she felt like she was about to get told off for getting her clothes wet. But no such lecture seemed forthcoming, and the four of them simply began to walk back to the Lionett estate. They’d entered into a strange new relationship of late; along with her accomplice duties, Clara had also falteringly asked Jester if she would like any guidance from a somewhat recent parent. Although still having regular in-depth conversations with her own mother, Jester had leapt at the chance, roping in Beau, who accepted with a touch more reluctance. 

“Pick me up!” TJ, with his little arms held high, had broken free of his mother and was now demanding this of Jester. He was increasingly fascinated with her, particularly as she became more visibly pregnant. She bent down to do so, sighing and breaking off from the motion as Clara and Beau both began to protest at the same time:

“Jes, you shouldn’t-”

“Uuugh, I know, I know!” Jester rolled her eyes and blew a raspberry, shrugging at TJ, who blew one back in sympathy. “I really think I could still lift him! I’m, like, really strong. It wouldn’t be a problem,” she grumbled, but didn’t push the matter. “I guess we will just have to hold hands instead, okay?”

“Okay!” he replied happily, clutching her fingers with his grubby fist, looking up at her with delight.

“Jeez, your mama and your sis were like peas in a pod just then huh?” Jester remarked, and Beau fought down the urge to physically cringe at the idea. A year ago, if someone had told her she’d be taking child-rearing lessons from her mother, she would have socked them in the face for trying to antagonise her. But maybe TJ was different. Less difficult, not the little monster she had been. Maybe Clara had reflected, learned from the mistakes she made the first time around. Maybe it was Jester. Or maybe it was just that people changed. Whatever it was, the tutoring was… weird, definitely, but tolerable, and on some occasions even kind of nice. 

*

One part, however, definitely wasn’t.

"...And fold it up without any spills. Perfect." Holding TJ’s ankles as he kicked them up and down impatiently, Clara turned from Beau to Jester. "Now, are you ready with a damp cloth?"

"Ready!" Jester chirped.

Fighting the urge to pinch her nose, but realising she was gonna have to be slightly more of a grown-up about this, Beau held aloft TJ's filled diaper pinched between her finger and thumb, grimacing. "Okay okay okay, now where the hell does this go?"

"You just rinse it in the sink, and then into the laundry pile, of course," said Clara, shaking her head with amusement. "Honestly, Beau, you’re going to have to get used to this. It will happen for a long time."

"Ugh. Clearly." Beau bit back a comment about how at least Clara wasn't the one scrubbing poop out of the diapers in this house, whereas they'd be afforded no such luxury.

"Good job! All clean," Clara sang, tickling TJ's feet as she supervised Jester's efforts.

"All glean," TJ repeated, and Jester smiled with irrepressible delight despite her grim task.

"Right, now the tricky part - putting the fresh napkin on. Smaller babies are very wriggly, and you also have a bit of a... splash hazard, sometimes, between changes, so be careful," Clara instructed, and Beau winced further.

"Oh, TJ, did you used to pee on your mama? That's so cheeky!" Jester cooed, and he burst into giggles, trying to reach up and grab the shining jewellery on her horns, which she leaned down to allow.

“I don’t understand how he’s old enough to walk and talk but not old enough to use the bathroom,” Beau muttered as she threw the cloth into the laundry and began washing her hands thoroughly.

Coming over and doing the same, Jester cocked her head as she shook her hands dry. “Hmm. I don’t know, I get it. Liiiiike, if you had just been pooping and peeing yourself whenever you wanted all your life, it would suck to be told you can’t do that anymore.”

“Ew..."

“I’m just saying! What’s normal when you’re a little kid? Everything’s new.”

It was a nonchalant sentence, but prompted an overwhelming train of thought from Beau as she blankly dried her hands. They would really be responsible for teaching this child, this person, about _ everything_. How could you not get that wrong? She had vowed to herself from the beginning that she wouldn’t do what her parents did; wouldn’t ever be cold to her kid, or shut them out. But what if she and Jester leaned too much the other way and they ended up with a spoiled brat? Fuck.

Clara cleared her throat from over at the table. "Ahem. Ladies? You will want to watch this part."

"Yep, sorry..."

But Beau was distracted throughout the demonstration of putting the new diaper on, which seemed more unnecessarily complex than she could have thought possible. After all was said and done she turned to Jester, still preoccupied by those words. “Hey. Should we get the bump some books? I mean, we have books. But like, books for babies?”

“Oh! Don’t worry, my mama actually sent a letter along with her care package. She says she's looked out all my old favourites,” Jester smiled. "They will be ready for us to pick up in Nicodranas. And I’m going to make sure I get my old copy of _ Goodnight Moons _ for the baby_. _That was my faaaavourite!"

“Aw shit, _ Goodnight Moons? _ I had _ Goodnight Moons!” _ Beau spun around to her mother for confirmation.

“You certainly did. You used to request it every night! I got so sick of that book… until you were too old for it.” Clara smiled with nostalgia, rocking TJ on her hip. “He likes it too, don’t you?”

TJ sucked his thumb rather than answering, once again staring with bald curiosity at Jester's now fairly prominent stomach, over which even her loosest dresses were starting to strain.

“Oh, I meant to say, Jester,” said Clara thoughtfully, “You must be in need of maternity clothing now. I believe I still have some of mine, if you'd like to have them. I'm certainly not planning on any more children!"

Jester put her hands behind her, abashed and pleased. "Oh, gosh, well, thank you so much! But my mama actually sent me sooooo many new clothes just this week, so I think I am all right. But that is really kind of you, Mrs Lionett."

Her cheeks warmed. "Please, you may call me Clara."

Beau looked down. Knowing Jester, she could understand just how easily she'd managed to win her mother over with her charm, especially now that they had these childcare lessons to bond over. But she still couldn't help being the tiniest bit bitter at how well they’d started to get on. Maybe the rapport was something to do with those maternal hormones that Beau just... chemically, didn't have. Or Beau was just awkward and fundamentally unlikeable.

No, wait, she was trying not to think that about herself any more. She was… fine. This interaction was fine. Man, this consistent self-esteem shit was _ hard_.

She got distracted after that, as Clara went to receive a social call, and Beau and Jester became involved in an elaborate game of dolls with TJ. By the time the nanny swept in and gathered him up for his dinner, a five-act dramatic structure had nearly reached its climax. It seemed the only way the two feuding dinosaur families were going to resolve their differences was at the altar - provided they could fend off the zombie army long enough to say their vows. (Well… okay, the narrative was mostly orchestrated by Jester. TJ just liked waving them up and down and smacking them against each other, while Beau saw merit in both activities.)

Looking out of the playroom window at the sun now dipping lower in the western sky, she hadn’t realised how long the afternoon had progressed. “We’d better go, Mom,” she called up the stairs with a casual ease that still felt odd, even as she'd gotten more used to coming and going from this house.

“Oh, thank you for today! Hold on, I’ll come down.”

As Clara started down the stairs to say goodbye, Jester realised only after putting her shoes on that she needed another pee, an occurrence which was becoming more frequent. "Be right baaack," she called as she managed to prance along the corridor despite holding her legs together. Beau chuckled as Clara came down and watched with her.

"I’ve been meaning to say, Beauregard," she said after a moment.

Oh boy, that was never good. Beau felt her spine straighten up with nerves, not turning to look. "Yeah?" she responded casually.

"I don't wish to overstep, because I know we are still in the beginnings of... refreshing our relationship. But I wanted to say that I think Jester is a lovely girl, and I'm impressed at the commitment you're showing, to her and her baby. I know that I didn’t show you the support I should have with, er… Tori. So I just wanted to say that I'm - I'm very pleased for the two of you."

Beau didn’t look at her mother, feeling herself turning red. "Oh. Um. That's not really, uh… Well. Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that."

She felt Clara's hand squeeze her shoulder gently as Jester reemerged from the privy, jogging towards them both breathlessly, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You guys, I just felt this crazy rumbling in my stomach, and for a second I was like whaaaat, am I gonna throw up? But then it stopped, and I think it was the bump! I think it was the baby’s first ever thaumaturgy!”

“Whoa, you serious?” said Beau eagerly. 

“Excuse me, first what?” asked a more alarmed Clara.

"Oh, Thaumaturgy is a thing tieflings can just do! Like this-" Beau winced, now knowing what was coming, as Clara flinched at the _ crash_ing open of all the downstairs windows - "Oops. Um, and tremors! Like little tiny earthquakes. And a bunch of other stuff we probably just can't see but - my mama _ said _it might happen a little bit after the first kick, but I forgot! Oh my gosh!"

"Goodness," said Clara, flustered. This was evidently too alien for her to know what the appropriate response was. "How exciting."

"Damn!" Beau patted the bump. "This baby's gonna be magic as shit."

"Well, they are a tiefling," Jester reminded her as Beau picked up her bag.

"Still, bet they end up a wizard or something. Heh, bet Caleb would be a really good teacher." Beau smiled, then gasped in exaggerated horror, turning to grab Jester by the shoulders. "Oh, shit, wait! What if our baby's a nerd?"

"Beau," Jester smirked, reaching up and booping her on the nose with her index finger. "I have bad news. _ You _are a nerd."

"Wow. Wow! Betrayal really comes where you least expect it. Seeya, Mom." Beau nodded behind her as they exited, Clara holding the door open.

"See you, girls," she replied, and Beau couldn't help but catch the knowing smile on her face as she watched the two of them walk away.

*

Once they'd gotten back to the inn, the aged halfling innkeeper who was wiping down bar stools informed them most of their friends were still out enjoying the weather. This would have seemed unlikely - the day had been uncommonly hot and sticky, and the novelty of sunshine had definitely worn off - but the Nein were trying to make a habit of both behaving like tourists and changing the locations in which they discussed their plans, just in case anyone did start to track their admittedly conspicuous group. There were a couple of nice secluded spots in the lower parts of the woodlands, where Caduceus's sharp senses would be in their best condition to spot any interlopers. On the other end of the scale, they'd try to nab tables at the busiest taverns during happy hour, where their voices would be difficult to distinguish from the heaving crowds of vineyard labourers carousing after a hard day's work.

Beau was sweaty and ready to get in the tub after even the brief walk back, which would presumably mean that Jester was even more so, but surprisingly, she simply dropped her bag on her cluttered bed and turned straight back out of the door.

"Where you headed?" Beau remarked, already beginning to change her shirt.

Jester waved a hand. "I’m just gonna take a walk and have a little chat with the Traveler."

"Oh. You sure you don't wanna rest? You were putting in a lot of the stunt work with those dinosaur wagon chases."

"Bea-u..."

Her tone was teasingly warning, and Beau quickly folded. "I know, sorry. No coddling here! Have fun."

"I will!”

Huh. Well, speculating wasn’t helpful. Undressing and pouring a blessedly cool bath in the small washtub they shared, Beau sank into the water and tried to let her brain unwind from the whirlwind of trying to entertain her brother for like, four whole hours. Man. She was getting really fond of TJ, but she had definitely been ready for a break from the kid. How was she going to do it full-time? 

After a few minutes of washing and thinking herself into anxious circles, Beau began to make out several familiar muffled voices below - Nott’s abrasive tones the most distinctive, with Fjord’s baritone cutting across it, and a few quieter words from Caleb and Caduceus. Looking out of the window now at the clouds that were spilling across the reddening sky like drops of grey-black ink, she had a feeling Yasha was probably still out. There was a prickling of pressure in the air, and a proper summer storm was long overdue.

She got dressed and poked her head in to touch base with the others, but they decided they’d debrief tomorrow when everyone was there, so, declining Nott’s offer of a game of cards, Beau headed back to her room, still a little socially drained. 

Her pack lay open on the ground, a few items falling out of it, but she liked to keep her stuff organised, so the only things on her bed were the discarded sweaty clothing from earlier, plus her staff leaning against the bed frame. Yasha’s space was even more spartan - the only personal touches being the black woollen blanket she slept with, and a few flowers drying on the windowsill, which Sprinkle had made a habit of curling up next to at night. (He only tried to eat them sometimes, and Yasha, understanding this impulse, permitted it.) 

Jester’s bed, on the other hand, had somehow accumulated a precarious tower of folded clothing, which seemed bizarre until Beau remembered the package she’d received this morning - maternity clothing, like she’d said. Fucking hell, though, Marion had gone a bit overboard - this looked like enough for Jester to wear a new dress every day until the birth, in a series of bright and shining colours with frills and tassels. And, tucked underneath it all, Beau couldn’t help but notice - a piece of parchment. She’d mentioned a letter.

It totally wasn’t snooping to read this, right? Jester loved sharing everything her mom said. Or so Beau told herself, as - call it Expositorial inquisitiveness - she couldn’t resist squatting down and unfolding the parchment.

_ My darling Sapphire, _

_ As promised, here are some maternity clothes for you. I asked my new seamstress to adjust some of your gowns - not your very favourites, of course, but I thought a touch of home might be nice! And the rest are custom orders from some of your favourite shops. It may be a little much, but I like spending money on you. _

_ I’ve also taken the liberty of looking through your toys and bookshelves and putting aside the things most suitable for newborns. Remember when I asked you to sort your shelves out, and we ended up only getting rid of about ten books because you insisted they were all so special? Well, it was a lovely trip into nostalgia, and now I am glad you wore me down. You have always been very wise that way! I have to admit I have had a few misty-eyed moments thinking about _ _ my _ _ baby having a baby of her own. _

_ I know I shouldn’t discuss details of your work, and we have time for that in our nightly conversations - I treasure them, darling, but they can be rather... abrupt. So while I have the chance to write to you, indulge me one request. I know you are going to be busy in the coming months. But after that, you’re going to be so far along - please do come home and stay a while. I understand that Beau’s family are hosting (?) you at the moment, so I hope that they will not object; I’m sure they must be anxious to be present too. If they want to come and stay at the Chateau, please let them know they are welcome. _

At this part Beau snorted aloud, hoping this suggestion was just politeness on Marion’s part - after all, she’d heard Beau’s sob story. Well, hopefully Jester would let her know there was no fear of the in-laws becoming overly involved. She shook her head and kept reading.

_ I’m trying not to worry all the time; I want you to keep doing exciting things, but it would ease your mother’s heart to have you safe at home for when the little treasure arrives. I’ll get your chamber ready for the two of you (soon to be three!), and everyone else will be welcome, of course. _

_ Be safe, my sapphire. _

_ Lots of love from Mama xxxxxx _

_ ‘The two of you’, _huh. There was that phrase again, just like her mom had said. 

She thought they’d settled into an understanding, but she was coming to realise that once the baby was born and they fully became a parenting unit, this was going to keep happening; this pairing together of _ the two of them_, the assumptions and allusions. It wasn’t discomforting - she’d much rather that than to not be acknowledged as the baby’s parent. But it was... weird. To say yes, we are friends, co-parents, two people who love each other, but not like that - except for briefly when we did. Or pretended to. Or pretended that we were pretending. 

Beau let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding and stood up, sliding the letter back under the pile of clothing guiltily and standing up. All this emotional bullshit wasn’t helping. She needed a clear head. 

*

“Mind if I join you?” 

Beau opened one eye, both her hands resting on her knees in a lotus position as she attempted to find her evening meditation on the inn bed, with its squeaking boards and itchy blanket. About an hour had passed without her realising, and the sky outside was now a wash of dark cloud with a low glow of orange. Jester stood in the doorway, rubbing her back with one hand, the other on her bump. 

“What’s up? Everything okay?” 

Jester put down her bag heavily and sighed, leaning forwards. “Ugh, yeah, I was just out for longer than I realised and my back _ aches_. And my legs. So I was just going to lie down, but... since you’re here. Could you show me some good back stretches, maybe? Like, flexible monk shit?” 

“Uh. Sure, of course.” Beau patted the bed next to her. “Lower or upper back?”

“Both! And hips. It’s just so much weight! I wish I could take my legs off for a little bit. I would be a big circle. I’d just roll everywhere.”

Beau snorted, indicating for Jester to sit opposite and copy her position, legs folded underneath. “What, like a beach ball?”

“Yeah! Like a giant blueberry. Ooh, and I could wear, like, armour with spikes all over it, and Yasha could just throw me into the battlefield like a cannonball! They’d never see it coming.” 

Chuckling and shaking her head, Beau began to go through the basics, some gentle warmup stretches to engage the back muscles without much bending. But in her current condition, it was evidently a struggle even for someone who was as strong (and still pretty fit) as Jester. She never complained, but the grimace that crossed her face as she grunted, lying back on the bed and trying to touch her toes in the air (not even getting close) was telltale enough. 

Beau bit her lip. “Man, I don’t think this is going anywhere. Also, I don’t feel qualified to give, like. Pregnant exercise advice. I don’t want you to accidentally crunch too hard and squish its little skull or anything.” 

Sitting back up with some effort, Jester looked up thoughtfully, considering the possibility. “I don’t think that can happen. But even if it did, the Traveler could help me fix that! Maybe. Or maybe we just have a baby with a little dented head. _ I _will still love them.” 

Beau exhaled a laugh, then held up her hands. “C’mon. This is silly. Let me give you a massage.” 

Jester’s eyes lit up before she hesitated. “Really? You don’t mind?” 

“Of course not, you dumbass. It’s the least I can do.” Beau laughed, then remembered herself and sat up a little straighter. “If that’s cool, y’know. With you.” 

Jester smiled, turning to face away and unhook the necklace she was wearing, placing it on the bedside table. “It would be lovely, actually.” 

“Okay.” Beau shuffled around until she was just behind Jester, tucking her folded knees on either side of her hips.

Beau knew how to give a basic massage - could probably give a damn good one, actually, if she thought about it, understanding muscles and the flow of ki as she did. But when Jester then wordlessly unlaced her bodice and pulled her shirt off, tossing it onto the ground and exhaling in relief, Beau froze, all at once feeling like a teenager. She had no idea what was okay, if it was weird, how long to linger, how gentle or firm a touch might be strange, might be too much. 

And although Jester couldn’t see her hesitation, from amongst a light dusting of freckles on the smooth, blue shoulders before her, the shadowed hood of the bright green Traveler tattoo seemed to regard her with judgement, despite its lack of a discernable face.

“This is cool, right - I mean. We’re cool? Us two?” Beau asked stiltedly, quietly, as she began to rub Jester’s shoulder blades. 

She didn’t react with much audible affirmation, but as Beau’s thumbs ghosted gently over the tension in her upper trapezius, a pleased little wriggle ran through Jester’s tail where it rested next to Beau’s knee on the bed. 

“Of course we’re cool,” said Jester softly. “We always have been.” 

Yet clearly they hadn’t. The fact of it sat in between them as Beau became aware of the sound of soft rainfall pattering outside. Were they mended now? Or this... this right now was mending them, maybe? One of a hundred little intimate things that had subtly restored them, back to... well, she supposed they’d never stopped being friends.

“So… other than the back pain,” she asked, moving her hands up to knead over Jester’s shoulders and the nape of her neck. “How was your walk and talk?”

“Mm, it was… it was okay, you know?” She finished cheerfully, but there was a little beat of hesitance in the pause there, which Beau had to prod at. 

“Just okay?” 

“Yeah, I mean, um…” Jester exhaled in what at first seemed a big sigh, but ended in a grunt of enjoyment, leaning her head back into the pressure of Beau’s fingers. “Mm, that’s _ so _nice. Um, yeah. I mean, so…. Don’t tell the Traveler I said this,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, “But sometimes… I think there are things he just doesn’t know the answers to. And he just avoids saying so by being tricksy.”

There was a lot Beau could have said to that, but she knew most of it wouldn’t be helpful, so settled on neutrality. “He is a trickster.”

“Yeah. I just don’t really know how to figure things out if he can’t tell me the answers, you know? He’s the person I’ve always turned to when things were hard.”

“If… you wanted to, you can always talk to me, y’know? Not that I’ll necessarily have the answers. But like. I’m here. I’ll listen,” said Beau quietly, testing the waters.

Without seeing her face it was hard to know the reason for Jester’s pause, but after a moment, as Beau moved down to her lower back, she said “I know you will. It’s all right, Beau. You already do so much for me.” 

“Okay.” Hesitating, once again feeling as if the eyeless face of the tattoo was staring her down, she added, “You know… You can still do it all without him. I mean, maybe the Traveler taught you magic, but. Everything that’s really special about you. All the good shit you do. That comes from you, not him.” 

“But I wouldn’t _ be _me without the Traveler!” was Jester’s immediate comeback, her spine tensing a little, and Beau felt she’d misstepped. But then she softened back into the touch. “Um. Thank you, though. That’s really nice of you. ...And this is really nice too.” 

Beau wasn’t sure if it was just the prolonged contact, but she felt warmth in the space where Jester’s bare back rested against her hands, despite the coolness of the tiefling’s skin. And fuck, now she started thinking about it, yeah, there was… absolutely a twitch of long-sleeping arousal in the way her legs hugged Jester’s form; in the way the half-light just revealed the naked skin that traveled up from the hem of Jester’s skirt, around the curve of her stomach up to the outline of her chest. But nope, it was time to stop that train of thought. She wasn’t going to make this weird. 

“Have I, uh, got everywhere that hurts yet?” she asked instead, a little gruffer than she’d intended. 

“Mm. Well. Actually my hips actually still ache, a - a little bit lower down. If you don’t mind,” was the quiet reply. 

Okay. Sweet fucking gods, okay. Just massage her hips in a platonic, non-weird way. “‘Course,” Beau managed, and brought her hands lower, rubbing circles around the base of her spine, where her tail began. 

Fuck. What if Jester could tell that Beau was getting turned on? Should she like… part her legs and move away? No, that would be _ more _weird! But what if -

As Beau’s circling thoughts mirrored her circling fingers, her hands dipped slightly beneath the hem of the skirt without really thinking about it, and the way that Jester arched her back at the touch and let out a tiny, breathy gasp made her very suddenly realise that this feeling might not be so one-sided. 

With a deep inhale of surprise, Beau lowered her head, breathing in the scent of Jester’s hair. Pressing her lips against Jester’s neck, she whispered “Want me to give you s’more relief?” But it was too bold, at once too bold - this wasn’t a hookup, it was _ Jester_. She quickly added “You could Polymorph me again, it won’t be weird. Whatever you need.” 

“Oh, gosh, I don’t... need you to be anything but yourself.”

She couldn’t see Jester’s face from this angle, but could feel the slight tensing in her shoulders as she spoke, barely above a whisper. Shit. Maybe Beau really had misread things. “Want me to back off?”

“No - I… I mean… what do _ you _want, Beau?”

“Me? I’m easy.” She then laughed. “Not like… you know what I mean.” 

“I know.” And Jester began to pull away, but it was only so she could turn around, shuffling to face Beau, as purple in the cheeks as Beau must be red. “But do you… do you want me? I don’t know if… It’s okay if you don’t! I know I’m... “ She swallowed, looking down and indicating her pregnancy, but Beau’s eyes were solely drawn to her breasts, ampler than ever, her nipples hard and swollen. 

“Fuck, Jes, I wanna touch you so bad,” Beau breathed. “It’s been so long.” 

“I want you to,” she murmured, and guided Beau’s hands to circle her areolas. “I want to… Oh,” she gave a quiet gasp as Beau ducked her head down and caught one nipple lightly in her teeth, ghosting it with her tongue, moving her free hand to grab Jester’s ass and pull her in closer. “Let me touch you too this time, Beau…” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Beau murmured, drawing back. “I can take care of you.” 

Jester’s tongue poked out, wetting her lips, as she looked up at Beau from under low-lidded eyes. “But I want to.”

She wanted to? 

“Then I’m all yours,” Beau managed to say, and then exhaled heavily, raising up on her bent knees and stifling a moan as Jester’s cool fingers slipped below the waistband of her pants and teasingly brushed up against her. 

Jester’s face flushed purple as she whispered “How long have you been this wet?”

“Fuck. Like. Half the massage. You couldn’t tell?” Beau breathed a shaky laugh.

“I was just trying to hide that I was too! Oh man, Beau,” Jester blew out air, hesitating as she ran two fingers along Beau’s labia, so lightly that Beau would have thought it was deliberately mean if she didn’t know Jester’s level of inexperience (for, although they’d experimented a fair amount back in the Xhorhaus, Beau had always been packing something distinctly different then). “I’ve been thinking about this so much…” 

“This?” Beau teased, deciding_ fuck it _ and yanking down her own pants to help Jester’s fingers move more freely. She returned one hand to caressing Jester’s tits, using the other to catch her fingers and guide her to the underside of Beau’s clit. Beau gave an involuntary moan of pleasure as Jester now seemed to get the idea, pressing up into her, firm and hard. Her eyes were screwed shut in concentration or embarrassment, her round cheeks were adorably plum-coloured, her lips slightly parted. Beau was overwhelmed with wanting her, wanting to kiss her - but that was the one thing they had never really done, so she just settled her hands on Jester’s horns instead, stroking the hair back from the breathless tiefling’s face as she rode Jester’s fingers. 

For a moment, neither could manage coherent words. “Is this good?” Jester murmured as Beau bucked her hips, grinding against her harder, but the angle wasn’t enough for the pressure she needed.

“Please, Jessie,” Beau whined, too worked up now to have an inch of shame, as she grunted with exertion, pinching Jester’s nipple as hard as she wanted Jester to fuck her right now, eliciting a surprised squeal. “I want you on top, _ fuck _ \- sit on my face.”

“I - really? Okay.” Jester brought up her hands and pushed Beau back onto the bed with a slam, where she lay breathing hard, heartbeat hammering. Jester shuffled forward to straddle her head, which was. A little overwhelming. Okay, maybe Beau had forgotten that she’d gotten significantly heavier in the last seven months. But fuck it, she was up for a challenge, and Jester had strength in her thick thighs, sitting up and holding herself so her weight wasn’t all on Beau. 

All Beau could see was an ocean of blue flesh, the scent of sex filling her nostrils, and she inhaled, bracing herself with her shoulders as she dipped her tongue upwards inside of Jester, inciting another squeak that curled into a moan as Beau sucked hard on her clit. Fumbling to squeeze Jester’s ass at the same time, Beau was able to just feel the moment when, as she pushed her tongue deeper inside - muscle memory aiding her in finding Jester’s spot - with a shudder, all the strength in Jester’s thighs gave out, and Beau’s head was suddenly crushed, totally suffocating under her weight.

“Oh - oh Beau, I’m so sorry!” Jester sprang backwards an instant later, flushed and looking mortified, clasping her hands to her mouth as she wriggled backwards and rolled off Beau’s body. 

“Ow,” said Beau mildly, her brain feeling just a little compressed, and began giggling helplessly. “So maybe that position wasn’t the best plan.” 

Jester joined in laughing too, the tension breaking. Then they both jumped as, seemingly from nowhere, there was a loud crackling rumble that echoed around the room. Both of their heads jerked to the direction of the window - it was black outside now, but the thin line of lightning that flashed across the sky a moment later illuminated the pouring rain now drenching the mountain valley. 

The storm had started without Beau’s notice. She’d been a bit distracted. 

“Oh shit. Yasha,” Beau realised, wiping her brow, sitting back up as she took harsh breaths. 

“Yasha,” Jester agreed, biting her lip and glancing over at the empty third bed. “We probably should have thought about that.”

Looking between the pair of them, Beau realised they were half-dressed - her on the top, Jester on the bottom. Both were soaked in a sheen of sweat, strands of Jester’s hair plastered to her face and tangled around her horns. 

Beau was suddenly exhausted, and staring at Jester, whose eyebrows were furrowed with some inscrutable thought or dilemma, she at once found it hard to say anything that could articulate the mess of her thoughts. Did that even just happen? What did it mean for Jester? What did it mean for them? Why couldn’t Jester just tell her what was going through her head?

“She’ll probably be outside all night,” she said instead. Which was true. They weren’t likely to be interrupted. “We could - we don’t have to stop, if, like. If you wanted to try something different.” But somehow, despite the physical arousal that remained, the atmosphere seemed to have gone, the room distilling into awkwardness.

Jester turned away from her to look at the window, tugging her shirt back on when she spotted it discarded on the floor. “I… I’m not sure. I just - not that that wasn’t - it was _ great_. I just feel really bad about squishing you, and...” She trailed off. 

“Okay. ‘Course. We’ll call it there.” Beau stood up, forcing her expression neutral (as if they were just chatting, as if she couldn’t still taste Jester on her lips) and pulled her pants on. “But it’s… cool that that happened?” 

“Yeah,” Jester nodded, swallowing, and frowned as she struggled to pull her shirt down over her protruding stomach. “It’s cool. I - I’m sorry again.” 

Looking up at Beau, she smiled, but it still didn’t quite meet her eyes.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the heist approaches, the Nein decide to live it up before they leave Kamordah, and certain things are finally said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (wheeze) it's been a whiiiiiile.... i am so sorry about the hiatus guys. a lot of things conspired to delay this chapter, but it's extra extra long to make up for it! i hope you enjoy. 
> 
> big thanks again to my beta readers for their embarrassing confession suggestions, as well as their usual editing marvels.
> 
> also, it's been almost exactly a year since i started posting this. wrow. i am.... so slow.
> 
> bit more nsfw text this chapter, but not as explicit.

Beau woke up alone, in her own bed, and it was... fine.

Yasha had returned in the night - sleeping soundly with her wet clothes still on by the look of it, giving off light, snuffling snores. Above her bed the curtains had been left open, and Beau could see that the day was bright but mild, still a little damp.

Over in her own bed, although she normally slept in late, Jester was up already, leaning her notebook on her bump as she stuck her tongue out, scribbling furiously. She must have felt Beau’s eyes on her, as she looked over and gave a quick smile.

“Writing hard?” Beau whispered.

Jester nodded. “Just telling the Traveler all about everything!”

Beau had to raise an eyebrow. “Everything?”

Jester looked a little flushed, but then what she said was “Oh no, don’t worry. Not about the, um. Heist plan and stuff. I know I should keep that super secret. Just, you know, the storm, and playing with TJ, and stuff.”

Yasha sighed in her sleep and rolled over. Beau said nothing.

So they were right back to not talking about it, then.

Welp. Beau rolled her shoulders, got up, stretched broadly, and bent down to touch her toes. There was plenty else to occupy her mind. As long as she kept busy she wouldn't dwell on it. 

With the soft background noise of Jester's busy pencil, Beau let her brain shift into her mental list of things they still needed to sort out, most of which, with the plan contingent on her family, she felt obligated to take on herself. She should talk to her dad today about making sure he had enough courier's uniforms, and chase up whether he'd definitely got the cart booked for the right day. 

Wincing slightly as her neck gave a crack, Beau stood up from her long stretch, feeling an involuntary flush come to her face as she remembered how she'd managed to pull that particular muscle last night.

"Are you all right?" came a soft voice.

Beau turned around and nodded at Yasha, who was sitting up, her hair draped over her face at a wild angle, coming down like a crashing wave.

"Yeah, just stretching. Morning, by the way!" Beau added as she dropped into a plank. "You have, uh... a fun night?" Was that even the appropriate question? Beau really wasn't sure what Yasha _ did _when she went off stormchasing, but she'd always been so unforthcoming about her trips, and the right window to ask for clarification never seemed to come.

"Yes, I did." A smile broke across Yasha's pale face. "It was wonderful. I, um... I have a lot of trouble communicating with the Stormlord, sometimes... or understanding what he wants from me, I guess? But I think... that was good." She tipped her head back to get the hair out of her eyes, and there was a squawk from Jester's direction.

"Nooo, I was drawing your hair! It looked so cool!" she protested, sitting up on her knees with a grunt of effort as her centre of gravity shifted forward.

"Oh, no... I'm sorry, Jester. Let me try to get it back," Yasha said, sounding genuinely remorseful, and piled her hair back onto her head again. The result was closer to a bird's nest than the elegant sweep she'd woken up with, and Beau snickered so hard she had to drop her plank, flopping onto the wooden floorboards with painful ribs.

"That's perfect, that's perfect! I'm going to draw that instead!" Jester declared between fits of giggles, and heaved herself around in bed to get a better angle, while Yasha stood with slightly bent knees in the middle of the room like a flightless bird, unnaturally still, the world's most awkward model, which only made Beau laugh more.

"Amazing. It is a masterpiece," Jester declared, and Beau came over to look, peering over her shoulder. 

The majority of Jester's doodles were so silly and weird that Beau was often taken aback by her actual artistic skill, whether it was quick admiration when she broke out the Marvellous Pigments in a pinch, or the quieter moments she got a chance to peek into the journal, like now. Even though the focus of the sketch was on the chaotic state of Yasha's hair, Jester had still effortlessly captured her distinct jawline, how it flowed into her long neck and broad shoulders with just a few deft pencil strokes, as well as perfectly cross-hatched shadow where Yasha's face was cast into darkness by the sunshine behind her.

"Ooh, someone's awake early!" Jester commented, breaking Beau out of her reverie as she patted her stomach, hiking her shirt up and grabbing Beau's hand to bring it down too before she could react.

"Oh..." Although it had happened a fair few times in the past month, Beau hadn't remotely gotten used to the sensation of touching her bare skin and feeling warm, insistent motion _ inside _of it. "Good morning, baby," she said, staring down at the blue expanse of flesh.

When she looked up, Jester was smiling at her. Beau curled her hands against the bump and patted it once awkwardly before stepping away. "And good morning, you," she finished, then immediately wanted to kick herself, but settled for walking briskly out of the room. "'Kay, no time to lie around all day. Who's comin’ for breakfast?"

*

Strangely idyllic yet still busy, the last few weeks in Kamordah sped by. If the energy was different between Beau and Jester, nobody commented on it, and, with little time alone between the two of them, the subject was never brought up. Sometimes she would meet Jester’s eyes for a moment in the middle of any dull logistical conversation about preparing spells and supplies, and just wonder if she thought about it too - surely she must. But time, uncaring, passed faster than Beau could have anticipated, and before the Nein knew it, Sydenstar was upon them. 

Their cover story as wine escorts came with a convenient excuse for why there were seven of them with one delivery - with bandit activity frequent on the trade roads between the major cities, it wasn’t uncommon for high-value goods to travel with an escort of guards. Clara had made sure that Thoreau wrote as much in his last correspondence to Ikithon, assuring him of the great care they took to ensure their product’s safe arrival, with the Lionett family’s compliments. 

It also, however, meant they’d have a long and slow journey up the Amber Road once more, with a clanking caravan of crated-up bottles, before their mission actually began, so it was only as Beau was scraping the last bits of food off her plate one evening that she realised they were having their final supper in the Old Stable inn. 

“Y’know, I was thinkin’. This is our last night in Kamordah,” she said, swallowing her last bite of beef and putting down her cutlery with a loud clink.

“_Ja, _it is,” said Caleb, cutting his vegetables and looking at her curiously.

“So…” Beau looked over her shoulder reflexively, as if her father might somehow be lurking behind the bar, but it was only the elderly halfling landlady, who gave her a cheery wave. She turned back around and slammed her palms onto the wooden table. “We should get wasted, man!” 

Nott’s pupils expanded, even though she was already sipping from her flask. “Excellent idea!”

“Are you sure? We need clear heads for this mission, Beau,” said Fjord doubtfully. 

“C’mon, man! We’ve got a couple days on the Bromkiln, we’ve done it like five times now, we know it’s boring as shit - no great loss if we’re hungover! By the time we get to Rexxentrum we’ll be sharp again.”

“One last hurrah for the Mighty Nein!” chimed in Nott.

“Not the _ last _hurrah, hopefully,” said Caduceus.

“I think that sounds fun,” Yasha put in, nodding. “I liked that wine your dad gave us.” 

“Exactly!” Beau turned to her eagerly. “They’ve been stockpiling so much wine these last weeks, plus we’re gonna have to lug the best stuff with us and give it to some of the worst people _ ever _\- just wouldn’t be fair if we didn’t get a chance to sample the goods ourselves.” She elbowed Caleb. “C’mon, wizard boy. You never have any fun. Loosen up.” 

“I, er... _ Na gut_. Very well.” 

“Guess you won’t be drinking, Deucey? Or Jester, of course,” said Fjord, leaning back.

Jester frowned in thought and turned to Caduceus. “You know what’s kind of weird? When you think about it, wine is made of, like… old, dead plants. You normally love that stuff!”

His ears twitched with surprise as he seemed to consider this information for the first time. “Huh. I do love that stuff. That is weird! Well…” He slapped his hands on the table, a strangely lively gesture, possibly in imitation of Beau. “My aunt always says you’ve got to try something twenty times before you decide you don’t like it. I’ll give it another go.”

“Attaboy!” Beau crowed.

“Is that how they got you to drink the dead people tea?” teased Nott.

“Oh, no, I always liked that.”

Caleb looked over at Jester. “You will not mind being sober alone?”

“Of course not! You guys have fun!” she answered quickly, smiling.

Beau gave her a sidelong glance, but Jester always did seem genuine in her enjoyment of the others' drunkenness, even though she'd never partaken. Personally, Beau knew if she spent this evening sober, her nerves would be shredded. Yes, they had a plan, and a good one, with the full understanding that if things went wrong, they’d just bail - and a solemn promise from Jester that, no matter what happened, she would save a spell slot to Dimension Door herself to safety. Really, like all good espionage, it would most likely be quiet and uneventful and nowhere nearly as dramatic as in stories. But that didn’t stop Beau from knowing that without the pleasant fog of alcohol to carry her brain away, there was no chance she was getting a wink of sleep tonight.

It was a good atmosphere in the inn as their plates were cleared - getting to be late enough that there were a few other customers drinking, creating a low background hum of chatter and laughter, but they could still hear themselves think. So Beau strolled up to the bar, slapped down five gold for starters, and ordered one of every bottle of Lionett wine they had in stock.

Walking back to the table with two pleasantly cold bottles in each hand, and one under each armpit, Beau grinned at the look of trepidation on the faces of everyone except Nott - who was already chugging her own flask. She plonked them all down on the table with a _ clink _and a thump as the halfling landlady tottered after her, carrying a tray carefully balanced with six wine glasses and a tall jug of sweet elderflower cordial. "On the house for you, young miss," she explained in her slightly wavery voice, nodding to Jester with a wrinkled smile. “Wouldn’t want you left out of the fun.”

"Oh, thank you! How lovely."

"Awesome, we're all set!" Beau grinned, and began to look at the bottles she'd brought over in consideration. "All right. Yasha, you liked the rosé, right? And Caddy, let's start you off with a nice fruit-forward white..." She uncorked them with her teeth and slid them over to each person in turn. "Fjord - strong red, I'd guess?"

"Er, we are starting with a bottle each? Is that really - _ ja _, okay," Caleb asked, wide-eyed, but didn't protest as an oak-spiced vintage was shoved his way.

"Yeah, man, I gotta support the family business," Beau smirked, getting into a familiar rhythm as she distributed the last few - she'd never made it very long into any part-time bartending gig, but that wasn’t for lack of skill, and the muscle memory remained. (The various firings had more been down to her inability to temper her response to any loud drunk asshole who decided to call her 'sweetheart'.)

"Oh, that's - wow, it does have a little kick. But that's nice," Caduceus commented after taking a minimal sip.

"That’s the spirit, Deucey! We'll make a drinker of you yet," Nott smiled, and attempted to reach up and ruffle the firbolg's hair, eventually having to stand up in her seat to do so.

Jester, meanwhile, had waddled over to the bar before anyone could notice and be chivalrous on her behalf, returning with a bowl stacked full of sugar cubes, and a straw. Dumping the sugar into her cordial, she stirred it vigorously, nodding with approval and chirping "Okay, now I'm ready to drink!"

"Awesome, you’re in the game." Beau had begun necking back her personal favourite, the 817 red - on the pricier end, but worth it in bold flavour - before remembering to pour it in the glass for at least a semblance of class.

"Game?" asked Yasha, eyebrows raised, having returned to her favoured posture of holding the glass like a soup bowl and taking dainty slurps.

Beau leaned forward on her elbows and grinned. "I'm gonna teach you guys something me and Tori learned from these smugglers. It's called Ring of Fire..."

*

"Seven!" Jester crowed, and shoved her finger up in the air, as everyone else scrambled over themselves to do the same, with Caduceus bringing up the rear in what had quickly become a pattern.

"Seven… Heaven. So that's... up in the sky. Right," he realised, doing the same a full five seconds later.

"’Duceus, that means you have to drink again," Fjord slurred.

“Also, um, your sleeve is in your cup!" Jester pointed out.

"Oh no..." Caduceus followed her gaze downwards, lifting the floaty garment out of what was his third or fourth glass already, having consistently brought up the rear in this rather unfair game of reflexes (for Beau and Nott, despite the willingness of both to drink, were actually doing the best at avoiding it, with their quickfire reactions). “Cheers, mate!” he added, nodding to Fjord, who’d been assigned his drinking buddy early on in the game, and had therefore become equally sauced. They clinked their glasses sloppily, and both necked back another drink.

“Ooooh, there’s only a few cards left!” Jester wriggled with excitement, her sugar high working well to match the drunken energy. “Someone will have to drink that deesguuuusteeeng cup soon! Oh, wait - what happens if I get it?” 

“Uh, shit. I guess you get to nominate someone,” Beau suggested, wiping her mouth as she took another swig. “Aw man, wait, my bottle’s empty? How is that possible? I fuckin’ rule at this game!”

“It is because you keep drinking when nobody tells you to, Beauregard,” said Caleb, leaning forward and slow-blinking at her like a sleepy cat.

Beau snorted, which turned into a slight burp. “Another of your finest Lionett wine!” she shouted over at the bar, fumbling in her pouch and slamming down some amount of gold pieces that would probably cover it. “Uh, please!” 

The landlady, whose head just peeked over the countertop from this angle, looked flushed. “I’m afraid that’s our lot, miss.”

“Oh. Then your shittiest Lionett wine!” 

The landlady cleared her throat, piping up to be heard over the increased noise as the tavern had grown subtly rowdier. “No, you see, miss, between your various refills, you’ve bought our whole stock. May I suggest a fine Staussman? They’re another local-”

“Hell no! Fuck you, Staussmans!” she blurted out on instinct. 

“Er, right, well, there’s no need for that sort of language…” 

“Beau, apologise to the nice lady!” Jester demanded crossly. 

Beau waved a hand. “Sorry, sorry… that was uncalled for. It’s just... instinctual.”

“Who are the Staussmans?” Nott slurred. Beau turned around and blinked at her, realising there were three empty bottles next to the pint-sized goblin. That would explain the ‘refills’, then. 

“Geez, Nott, take it easy, you’ve got fuckin’ endless booze! Anyway. Listen, it’s a long story, but…”

*

“Wow.” Caduceus gave a slow nod, empty glass tucked in the crook of his chin like a beloved child. “Maybe it’s the wine talking - lovely wine, by the way - but that story made less sense every time you told it.” 

“Uh. Did I tell it more than once?” Beau looked down. “And how long have I been standing on the table? And why are my feet wet?”

“I think Ring of Fire might have died,” said Yasha, nodding at the few remaining playing cards around their revolting king’s cup, now sodden and spread all over the table. 

Beau stepped down, clearing her throat. “Okay. New game! Hey, is Caleb asleep? New game, Caleb!”

“Hrnk?” The wizard jerked back upright. “I wuzna sleep. Let us play another game.” 

“You got anything you wanna play, Jes?” Fjord asked, turning to the tiefling, who had moved from her sugar-rich cordial onto grape juice, but was still just as buzzed.

“Ooh! Truth or dare, truth or dare! Or - no, no wait! _ Never Have I Ever_!” Jester exclaimed, jumping up and down. “I love when you guys get drunk and say stuff.” 

“Let’s do it.” Beau raised her empty glass, hiccuping. “I’mma switch to whiskey. Fill me up, Nott.” 

Nott snorted at that, but complied, taking Beau at her word and filling her wine glass with a generous triple of whiskey, topping up the rest of them with the same. “Except for you, Caduceus, because it’s your first time and I don’t want you to die,” she told him in a moment of maternal seriousness.

“That’s fine, I think… water time.” 

“Water time,” Fjord agreed, hitching his arm heavily around Caduceus as the two of them stood up, limping and swaying arm-in-arm like wounded soldiers towards the bar. 

Beau knocked back a shot of whiskey, shuddering as it hit. “All right, Jester, you start us off since those wusses aren’t really drinkin’.” 

Jester folded her arms, looking around the group and biting her lip with glee. “This game is the best for me because I haven’t done aaaanything and you guys have all done it all. I just get to hear the gossip. Okay. Anyway. Hooooo. Never… have… I…. everrrrrr… um… polymorphed myself into a cat just so strangers would pet me.”

So saying, she took a big swig of her own drink, and Caleb quietly did the same - not missed by Beau, who couldn’t resist reaching across the table to give him a noogie. “Awww, Caleb!”

“I was alone for a while,” he muttered, red-faced. 

“Hang on, aren't you supposed to say something you _ haven’t _ done?” Fjord pointed out as he returned, pulling his stool out with a grating squeal.

He was cut across by Nott, waving her hand dismissively. “Come on, Fjord, everyone knows you say something you have done so you can overshare! Anyway, anyway, it’s my turn - never have I ever had my husband brew a Potion of Growth specifically for bedroom purposes.” She then slammed back another swig of whiskey without even looking at anyone’s response. 

“Augh, TMI, Nott!” Beau groaned.

“Noooott, obviously nobody else has done that!” cried Jester, with a look of equal revulsion and interest. “...But did it work?” 

“Oh yes,” replied the goblin coyly. 

“Didn’t that hurt like a motherfucker?” Beau had to ask, grimacing at the thought.

“I never said it was him who drank it,” said Nott, taking another sip. 

“Wow. This is a. Wow. This is a conversation,” said Caduceus, staring a thousand yards into the table. 

“I would love for it to end,” said Fjord faintly, who had turned extremely pink.

“Ah, shit, my turn,” Beau realised. Well, once this game got on the sexual train, there was no leaving it. Now which of her friends did she want to further embarrass? “Hmm.” She made direct eye contact with Caleb and smirked. “Never have I ever used Mage Hand to jerk off.”

“Oh come on, we just decided it’s things you’ve done yourself!” Fjord protested, but Caleb was drunk enough to just look back at Beau coolly and take a sip - as did Nott.

“Haha, whoa, two for one! You pervs,” Beau cackled. 

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t if you could,” Nott told her without a hint of shame - something Beau couldn’t particularly argue with. 

“Now,” Caleb turned to Nott, slurring a little, “As I said, _ I _ was alone for a while... but I cannot help recalling that I only taught you that trick after we had already been travelling as a group, _ mein Freund_.”

Nott shrugged. “I’ve still got needs.” 

“Oh Gods, get me out of here,” Fjord whispered, as Jester collapsed into snickers, Yasha and Caduceus both looking nonplussed by this information.

“Anyway, Fjord is right for once, Beau - you gotta dish the dish! Say something you’ve actually done!”

“Ugh, fine.” Beau put her blurry head in her hands to think. Was it always this loud in here? Man, she never normally had any trouble with a prompt like this. Sure, some of the more outlandish parts of her sexual history were definitely playing through her mind right now, but… Jester was also right there, looking at her with anticipation. Talking about some other girl would be wrong. All of those experiences had just faded distantly into the background now, anyway, like they were just the prelude to the real thing. 

“Argh, I can’t think of anything good,” she finally hedged. “Um, never have I ever stolen the party’s last healing potion as a hangover cure.” 

“_ What_!?” 

“Beau! Are you serious?” 

“When was this?”

“Damn, seriously nobody else?” She chortled, downing the rest of her cup. “Okay, now I do feel bad. Listen, it was in Zadash ages ago. I snuck it outta the Bag of Holding and restocked before we left. Clearly none of you noticed!” She elbowed Yasha then, clearing her throat. “Your turn.” 

“Oh. Hm.” Yasha took a big swig of whiskey nonchalantly as she thought. She’d evidently had her bottle of wine and then some, but was the only person showing absolutely no signs of intoxication.

_ That woman has the constitution of a draft horse, _thought Beau, the simile coming to her with rare clarity through a haze of alcohol, before she nearly spat out her drink as Yasha calmly said “Okay, never have I ever gone down on a woman until I passed out.” 

After she had recovered, amidst everyone else’s shocked splutters, Beau raised a glass to that, exchanging a cheeky grin with Yasha. As she swallowed her drink she couldn’t help looking at Jester, too, and feeling her face get warmer as the tiefling waggled her eyebrows at Beau for a second before looking away. (Okay, it had never _ really _ gotten that far, but back in the Xhorhaus there had been a few... close calls.) 

“Ahem.” Caleb had gone the colour of a ripe strawberry at that. “My turn? Right. Well.” 

He then paused for so long that Beau was on the verge of stepping in and saying he didn’t have to share anything sexual, not knowing what that might bring up for him, but as she opened her mouth, so did Caleb. “NeverhaveIeverhadathreesome.” Somehow turning even redder, he necked his drink. 

Nott whistled. “Caleb!”

“My man, you know you’re gonna have to share that story at some point now,” Beau laughed, taking another hefty drink as her own mind wandered back to two particularly bored Cobalt Soul girls with whom she once shared an entertaining evening. “Your turn now, Caddyshack.”

“Hmm.” Caduceus gazed into his glass of water as though it might contain answers to all the world’s misfortunes. “Well, I don’t have any sexual stories to share. Yet.” He hiccuped. “Sorry.”

Beau waved a hand. “Just think of something weird.”

“All right then…” He considered. “Never have I ever cast Meld With Stone and gotten my hand stuck inside an earth genasi.”

Silence reigned as he drank. 

“Caduceus, we are always learning new things about you,” Beau finally said, shaking her head. 

“Colton dared me,” he smiled. “We were teenagers. And the family were very understanding, all things considered.”

“Oh gods.” Fjord dissolved into helpless schoolgirl giggles as Caleb nudged him. 

“Hey. You are last up to bat, mister sailor man.”

“Oh…”

Beau leaned forward, rather intrigued as to what he would say. Actually when it came to the dirty secrets of the Mighty Nein, Fjord was probably the one she was least sure about. He was objectively attractive, knew how to turn on the charm, and had arrived with his big swinging cowboy persona, but how much of that was real? 

His eventual decision didn’t do much to dispel that. “Never have I ever been pegged,” he mumbled, taking a huge gulp of water. 

“Fjord!” Beau exclaimed gleefully, as did Nott, although her expression was more one of horror mirroring his own at her confessions. Caleb turned red again - and hang on, was he drinking to that, or just taking an absent-minded sip?

Fjord looked around and shrugged. “Avantika,” he said by way of explanation. 

“Oh my gosh,” giggled Jester, although her energy didn’t quite match that of Beau and Nott, leaning forward to rest her head on the sticky table. 

“You okay, Jes?” asked Beau. 

“Hm? Oh yeah, I just” - she suppressed a yawn - “I think that my sugar high is turning into a low…”

“Well, you need your sleep, but don’t put your face on the table. Lean on Fjord,” Nott told her briskly. 

“Mmkay,” Jester replied, snuggling into Fjord’s shoulder, and Beau supposed she must’ve matured in her insecurity - or maybe just her trust in Fjord - that this now didn’t give her the slightest hint of jealousy.

“Now, what does ‘pegged’ mean when it’s at home?” asked Caduceus brightly.

“Oh boy…”

A stilted and clinical explanatIon on Caleb’s part followed, with plenty of unhelpful giggling from Beau and Nott, Fjord looking mortified, Yasha smirking, and Caduceus nodding, wide-eyed, as if he might be tested on this information later on.

“So, Fjord…” Beau leant across the table. “On that note. The thing with Avantika.” 

“Mm.” Fjord took a long draw from his tankard. 

“I mean, did you guys - did you - ah, fuck, I don’t…” 

“I think it’s pretty clear that they boned, Beau,” Nott supplied. 

Beau swung around to smack the back of Nott’s head before remembering her own strength and stopping short at the last second, resulting in an abrupt, purposeless flailing motion that nearly knocked her off her stool. “I know they boned, you could tell that from a mile away the next morning! No offence, man, no offence. No, I mean, was it… was it like, affectionate? I mean…” 

“What _ do _you mean, Beau?” Yasha asked with a hint of a laugh. 

“I mean, did you like, feel… really feel feelings for her? Or was it just for the sake of the grift?” 

“Beau, you can’t ask that!” Nott reproached her in turn.

“I’m just curious, he doesn’t have to answer!”

“It’s all right, it’s all right.” Fjord sighed heavily. “I… don’t honestly know how I felt about her. It was… very strange. I mean, I was playing a role, of course, but also… well, she thought we were linked because of the snee snake. Sea snake.”

“_ Snee snake? _” Jester interrupted sleepily, breaking into an unsuppressable snort even as her head flopped back onto Fjord’s shoulder. 

Nott cackled. “Snee snake!” 

“This motherfucker said snee snake-” 

Beau lost it, nearly falling off her chair, and they were off, the whole party completely losing track for a few minutes of laughter and ribbing before Fjord huffed, “You know what I _ mean_; Uk’otoa!”

“Uk’otoa…” Caleb repeated solemnly. 

“Anyway - we _ were _linked, is what’s weird. She really was the only person who got it, who’d been given these same dreams and… it did make me feel less alone. I was acting and I’ve done… a lot of pretending to be another person. Obviously.” 

He gave an acknowledging smile, lips catching to show his growing tusks. “But that part… it really was strange to share something that felt so personal, something that only came to me in dreams, with somebody else. So yeah, it was…” He lowered his voice in embarrassment. “I don’t know if ‘affectionate’ is the word; it was... passionate? But I didn’t feel good about it. Overall. Obviously. She was a bad person, but. It’s a very intimate situation to be deceptive in.” He cleared his throat. 

“Yeah,” said Beau, putting her flask down, suddenly aware of how raw her throat was. She cleared it and took another heavy chug. 

There was a brief pause, in which Nott looked around craftily before jabbing Beau in the side with a pointed finger. “On that note… So. You. Miss Lionett.” 

“Ow! What?”

“Okay, there’s definitely something we’ve aaaaallll been wondering about, right, guys?” She looked around conspiratorially at the rest of the Nein, who responded with faces of varying confusion. 

Nott sighed and took another shot from her flask. “Fuck it! I’m funk as druck and I miss my husband, I don’t care, I’m gonna ask it. You two!” She waved her flask wildly between Beau and Jester, who really must be almost asleep, as she didn’t respond past a grunt. “How did it actually happen? You have to give us the deets, we’ve been dying to know for months and months!”

Beau hid her face in her hands, hoping someone would come to her rescue, but alcohol had brought out the honesty in her friends - every one of them was staring at her, as hungry for information as Nott was. Fuckers. 

“I really don’t think I should talk about this,” she mumbled, taking another sip and belching. “Oh fuck, actually though, when I think back, it starts with me jacking off. Since we’ve already got that out on the table tonight.” She snorted. “Not literally. Anyway. Jes walked in on me, and we had an awkward chat, and then, uh, well, one thing led to another. Like we said, just a no-strings-attached one-time deal.” 

“And that’s it? There’s seriously been no more monkey business?”

“Wha - no!”

“Not a single roll in the hay?”

“Nott!”

“I’m just saying, it seems ridiculous after one great night together - all that time since, all the weeeeird tension between you two, and there’s been no slap and tickle? No rummaging in the root cellar? Not a _ single _game of hide the sausage? Or maybe it wasn’t good,” Nott’s eyes glinted, her pupils huge. “Was it just too strange?” 

“Never - never say any of those words to me again,” Beau groaned with disgust, and turned to Jester, assuming they would meet with expressions of equal horror, but she merely shifted around in her sleep against Fjord’s shoulder (who had his hand to his mouth in rapt awe as Nott dominated this interrogation.)

“It wasn’t bad! It was - okay, look.” Beau lowered her voice. “It actually… wasn’t just the once, back then.” At that, all the Nein leaned in with equal intrigue. 

Although part of her whispered that it didn’t feel right to air Jester’s issues while she was asleep, the alcohol dismissed that, emboldening Beau. Fuck it, this wasn’t exactly a skillset you got many opportunities to boast about. “If you have to know... it came out that she was curious about a few things, and I was in a position to offer my expertise. So yeah, we had some good times.” She smirked. “_ Really _ good. But we didn’t want to make the group dynamic weird, or really. like, talk about it. So once we hit the road I guess it just died. Until - y’know.”

“It seems like you didn’t want it to die,” offered Yasha softly. 

“Well… maybe.” Beau lowered her voice again, keeping an eye on Jester’s lowered eyelids. “But it’s not about what I wanted.”

“So it was nice, what you had?” Caleb asked, his voice hoarse. 

“It was. It was very nice.” 

Beau stared at her whiskey, feeling the ache in her head already forming. 

“Wow,” said Nott wonderingly. “I can’t picture it. Our Jester, a total animal in bed?” 

Fjord blew water out of his nose at that, and Beau gave a shocked cackle, clapping her hands over her mouth. “No! Fuck, if anything, she was a complete pillow princess, but that’s virgins for you-“ 

Jester raised her head. “Just let me know when you guys are done talking about me, okay?” 

Her voice was bright but shaky, horribly sarcastic. She stood up, extricating herself from the table, putting her hands on her stomach. 

The Nein sat in terrible guilty silence. 

“I mean.” Jester gave a biting, humourless laugh. “It’s fine. I’ve heard people talking about my mama behind her back all my life, so I get it.” 

As her pitch rose, Jester’s voice hitched a little. Beau felt frozen in place, watching this happen in awful slow motion. 

“It’s fun to gossip, and it is all right for you, Beau, ‘cause you don’t have to wear the evidence everywhere you go. So I guess you can say whatever you want about our sex life. It’s just that it’s, like, a private thing for some people. Not you, though, I forgot about that. Sorry.” 

Her words ringing in the air, Jester exhaled, tucked her hands under her bump, and stormed out of the tavern. 

Beau finally brought herself to look at the others.

“Fuck.” 

*

Out of breath as she stumbled through the quiet streets, Beau had never been more grateful for her nerdy-ass night vision goggles, since suddenly, without all her friends at her side, the midnight blackness in Kamordah felt as daunting as it once had when she used to sneak out of her bedroom window. Or maybe that was just the guilt, pumping through her veins along with the useless fog of alcohol that made her stumble and nearly trip in the darkness. But once she had made it far enough out of town to hear the soft trickle of the forest-side stream, she didn’t need the goggles. High above the mountains, the moons illuminated a soft blue shape sitting on the edge of the bridge, looking at the water. 

Beau leant down and caught her breath as Jester looked up at her. “You’re okay,” she managed between pants.

“Yes, I’m okay.” Jester’s mouth twitched. “I couldn’t get far like this.” 

“I dunno,” Beau came up as close as she dared - about a metre’s distance - and leant over the edge of the bridge too. “You gave us all a good scare.”

Focusing her eyes a few times to dispel her blurry vision, Beau stared down at the stream and it stared back up at her, dark and shiny and unforthcoming. She wanted to look at Jester, but even lifting her head was hard with this burning humiliation weighing inside her, leaden in her stomach, inducing lurching nausea - or maybe that was the oncoming hangover. 

“I know you think this town is stupid,” Jester said quietly. “But I think this stream is so nice.” 

“I know you do. And you’re right. It is nice.”

“Mm.”

Beau closed her eyes and decided to stop stalling. 

“I’m sorry,” she managed. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. I was being a drunk idiot. It was totally wrong and - and pigheaded of me to talk about you like that. I hope you know I value you so much more than I made it seem. And, and Nott says sorry too. She got carried away. But I... I figured I should come alone.”

“Thank you,” came the muted reply. “I accept your apology.”

Beau turned to look at her, but Jester was still leaning over the wooden rail, staring down below. 

Beau cleared her throat. “I meant it when I said I wanna see you angry. If you’re angry you can feel that. Hit me if you want. I’ll take it.” 

“I don’t want to hit you.”

“Okay, then... do whatever you need to do.”

“I don’t know what that is.” 

It was all off, Jester’s voice so flat and muted. She gave a deep sigh. And even as Beau wanted to push, to go ‘_then_ _how can I make this better?'_, she realised she was still trying to dictate Jester’s emotions. Trying to push her to be happy and sunny again, just to make Beau comfortable. 

Shit. “Then - just talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling and I’ll listen.” 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling.” She could faintly see Jester’s hands clenched with frustration against the wood. “I didn’t really mean what I said to you either. I mean, I talk about sex all the time. ‘Cause it’s funny. I don’t know why it upset me. I guess it was just, like. Realising. That you know so much more than me, and that I was just another... I don’t know, another conquest on your long list.” She smiled wryly.

It was Beau’s turn to frown, propping up her arm on the railing as she turned to look at Jester fully. “Hold up. Your mom is literally a - a sex worker and you’re gonna admonish me for sleeping around?”

“What?” Frustration crossed Jester’s brow. “No! Beau, just listen. I mean that you’re _ cool_, you’ve always been so cool, and for you, sex is like - casual, but I’m not like that! And it makes me feel stupid that what we did was a big fricking deal for me!” 

Beau was too stupefied by this whole conversation to attempt to lower her voice now, taking a step closer. “Listen? I am listening! I’ve been listening, fuck - I’ve been waiting and feeling it out this whole time, Jes! Waiting for you to tell me what this is! Because it was a big deal for me too, actually. You’re - you mean so much to me that I was stressing out about making it good for you, and then you acted like you didn’t even wanna acknowledge it! This whole fucking charade with the magic tiefling dick started off as something _ you _ asked _ me _for, can I remind you of that?”

“I know!” Jester finally turned to look up at her, and in the moonlight Beau could see she was crying freely again, big streaky rivets of tears shining down her cheeks. “I get it, you did me a favour, and I suck and I don’t know anything, and I’m a pillow princess, and you pretty obviously wish all of this never ever happened. I already feel awful about that, you don’t have to remind me.”

“Wh- no, Jes, I...”

But Jester closed her eyes, stepping away. “I know. I know you felt obligated, because you are a very nice person, even though you pretend not to be. You don’t have to fuss over me, Beau. You don’t have to have pity sex with me to make me feel better when I’m gross and huge. It - it just makes me forget for a minute that you regret it. And when I let myself forget that, it just.” She inhaled deeply. “It just hurts more later, okay? So stop.” 

“Jessie.” Beau felt dizzy, trying to fit all these disparate pieces together in her head. “I don’t pity you. I don’t regret - I - how can you not know how fucking obsessed with you I am?” 

She stepped forward and grabbed both of Jester’s hands, holding them insistently, too drunk and wired to worry about how strong she was coming on. “Am I going insane? I thought - I thought I was just... too much. Every time I don’t have my hands all over you, I’m restraining myself! Isn’t that obvious? You told me to back off, way back in Zadash, so I - so I did. I don’t want to be a creep, I just want to be whatever you need, because I love every second we spend together. And I love the shit out of this baby. And I—” 

She screwed her face up, biting her lip as she cut herself off. 

Jester’s eyes, in contrast, grew wide with shock, blinking away the remaining tears as she steadied herself, gripping Beau’s hands back. “In… Zadash? That - what, that time at the Evening Nip? Oh my gosh. Beau, I was so hormonal, and I was really upset after talking to my dad. I told you that. I didn’t really mean for you to back off. I would never - you are so important to me. I didn’t understand why you were acting so off with me ever since then! I just thought you were pulling away. And I understood, even though it made me really sad.” 

“Oh.” Beau just stood there, too stunned to articulate more, and beginning to wonder if she was very, very stupid.

Jester let go of one hand to wipe her eyes, continuing as she sniffled. “I couldn’t do this without you, Beau. Any of it. I’ve… I’ve been trying to prepare myself for it because you seemed so conflicted. And I understand. The bigger I get, the more real it becomes. You never asked for this. But I’m selfish, and I’m scared, and I still want you here. Need you.”

“I _ am _ stupid,” Beau realised aloud. “I’m a genuine fucking idiot.” 

“Beau.” Jester tilted her head sideways, taking Beau’s hand again. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“No, I just… I guess I just thought…”

Looking into Jester’s eyes, she had never been more aware of the leaping of her heart. All the heavy sickness of earlier was gone, replaced by a hesitant elation, this jumping in her veins which was too strong for her to caution, as she attempted to scramble her feeble brain cells into order while staring at the woman in front of her.

“Beau,” Jester repeated her name, achingly softly, taking one step closer. “Your turn, okay? Tell me what’s going on.”

“I… fuck. I think I’m just. Realising that it’s always been you.” Beau looked at the floor. Despite the lightness in her heart, her chin had started to wobble, and wouldn’t stop. “Everything was always about you.” 

“Everything?” 

“Meeting... meeting you and Fjord and then everyone was the best thing that ever happened in my stupid fuck-up of a life,” she admitted, tucking her chin, her head swimming. “And everything’s been so different since then, since we became the Nein... that it’s so hard to pin down.” 

“What’s hard to pin down?” Jester’s voice was barely a whisper. 

“You know, Jessie. You must know.” 

“Tell me anyway.” And she was there now, closing the gap between them, the cool chitin of her horns pressing against Beau’s forehead, breath audible. The bump, too enormous to ignore, pressed up against Beau’s hips. 

Beau placed both hands on it. “There’s something between us,” she whispered, giggling. 

The full moons lit up Jester’s helpless smile as she stretched onto her tiptoes to catch Beau in a kiss. 

The moons were shining just for the two of them tonight, Beau thought, meeting her soft lips, inhaling the sweet smell of her breath. None of it felt real, the riverside all cast in hazy midnight blue, like a painting. And so it was easy, in the end, much easier than she ever would have thought, to pull her mouth from Jester’s after a moment, to whisper “I’m in love with you.” 

They stood for a long time, quiet and still, three heartbeats in tandem. 

Beau squeezed her hands against Jester’s back. “With every other girl before I could just… I knew I could cut and run. Because nothing mattered to me. And didn’t I fucking pride myself on that? Kamordah didn’t matter, the Cobalt Soul didn’t matter. I could mess around and have fun, ‘cause I knew that I would leave it all behind as soon as things got hard or real. Better off that way, I thought. But we... We made something. And I can’t run away from it.” 

Before Jester could answer she desperately qualified, “And I don’t _ want _ to. Gods, I don’t. I want to be here for you and this fucking kid. Shit! I don’t want anyone to grow up in a world feeling like a fucking burden on their parents. I know I’m not the fairytale prince you wanted. I never… This kid didn’t ask us to exist. I want to do right by you both so bad. But that scares me. And we should be honest with each other, shouldn’t we? This is a long haul thing. Whatever this is. We should be honest, and I’m fucking scared. Oh... Jester, please don’t cry.” 

“I keep telling you I can’t help it,” Jester sniffled, smiling brokenly as more tears rolled down her cheeks. She hooked her chin onto Beau’s shoulder and exhaled. “I’m scared too. Tell me you’ll protect me.” 

“I will.” 

“Tell me you’ll stay with me.” 

“I _ will_.” A hoarse vow.

“Tell me you love me again. Please.” 

“I do. I do. I … I love you, Jester.” 

And it didn’t matter that Jester just silently buried her head in Beau’s neck, Beau holding her and rocking her. It truly didn’t matter. Beau meant it - knew that she meant it. And that singular, one-sided, blind, stupid devotion - it was more of love than she’d ever thought she’d know. 

Finally, Jester raised her head.

“I’m not like you, Beau. I haven’t been with lots of ladies or men. I didn’t even have friends except for the Traveler before I met you guys! Everything I know about people has through this lens of what my mama does, and. I guess that wasn’t really a good way to learn.” She sighed. “I... I don’t think I know what being in love is supposed to look like. My mama and my dad said they loved each other, but they somehow got it all wrong. And - and all the books? It really isn’t like that at all. Not at all.”

“I told you that,” Beau laughed.

“So… so that’s my honesty. I am so new to this. To all of this. I want to know what I’m saying, when I say it. But when I do, and when I know that I’m sure… I’ll tell you.” She blinked away the last tears drying on her face. “Is that okay?”

“It’s more than I ever thought I’d get,” Beau closed her eyes, breathed in the scent of her hair. “I’ll be here. No matter what.” 


End file.
